Even The Sun Sets In Paradise
by justsomebrittanagleek
Summary: She doesn't find out the way she should. Naya/Heather
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Even The Sun Sets In Paradise [1/3]  
**People**: Heather Morris, Naya Rivera, Dianna Agron, Kevin McHale, side minor Taylor Hubbell, Matt Hodgson  
**Rating:** Hard R  
**Length:  
****Summary:** She doesn't find out the way she should.

**Notes:** Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own. Title from Maroon 5's _Payphone. _Found this lurking around my LJ so decided to put it here.

_/_

_She doesn't find out the way she should._

The news of the engagement doesn't come to her through Heather, or Dianna, or even Telly – who always seems to know everything. No. Instead, it's brought to her attention by Twitter. A small trend, starting with a hash and ending with '_NayaRiveraStopTheWedding_,' and then that's it. She knows.

At first, before she finds out, she's curious. Well, curious is probably a mild statement, but curious none-the-less. She swipes down her Twitter feed with the pad of her thumb, seeing a few of her colleagues tweets; Kevin saying something about his dog chewing up his favorite pair of glasses, Lea saying something about Amsterdam and Cory being his dorky self and replying about being there with her or something, and she smiles.

It's only been over a month and she's finding herself missing these people so, _so _much; even though she's seen the majority of them at random times. But that's what happens when you go from spending everyday with people to seeing them _maybe, _once a week; you just start to miss them.

And she knows that feeling better than most, actually.

But anyway, she's scrolling down her feed, and then she—purely out of curiosity—goes onto her mentions and checks what stupid rumor is going round about her at the moment. A few weeks back there was the whole uproar about going to Mexico with Heather, and then the same amount of attention on the few pictures some sneaky pap caught of her and Matt together, and it kind of entertains her to be honest; hence why she's checking now.

Then she sees the trend.

It's small, and on every three tweets with her name tagged onto the end of it, but she sees it and intrigue shoots through her. She doesn't even register the name of the person, nor the compliment about her 'amazing body' tacked onto the end of it. She doesn't register how Matt's calling to her from the shower, or how there's that thin whistle of the kettle coming from downstairs that she was pretty sure only existed in movies.

No. All she registers is the hash tag.

_Heather engaged? #NayaRiveraStopTheWedding_

That's all it says, and being in the spotlight for a while now, she knows that rumors are rumors. Most of the time, they're fake and made up by people who clearly have nothing better to do that make something up about someone else's life, purely because they've got nothing going on in their own lives. But there's something about this—about the trend, the way it's phrased and the strange sense of sympathy she seems to be getting from it—that _really _makes her panic.

Shaking her head, she quickly goes back to the list of mentions and begins to frantically search through them. It takes about thirty seconds, and like, a hundred tweets, but eventually she finds it and her heart jumps into her throat. Because there, underneath her trend and underneath a generic statement about Heather, is a small link to _Instagram_.

And her heart jumps back down from her throat. Jumps back down, goes straight through her chest and falls out into a pathetic mess on the floor as she clicks on the link and the picture comes up.

Now, she's met Taylor, more than a few times and despite him actually kind of being a lovely guy, she just never seemed to get along with him. There was also that possessiveness about him when he was around Heather; but she guesses that has something to do with having a celebrity as a girlfriend and decidedly _not _being a celebrity himself. Having a celebrity girlfriend—craved for by thousands of men _and _woman—and seeing her at events, surrounded by hundreds of other talented, rich and smoking hot celebrities, that would make a guy worry and so she understands his possessive stance and hold on Heather whenever he's near.

But for some reason, she never thought that was the reason whenever she was around. Something about his eyes, and how he'd always be _studying _her and Heather's interactions instead of watching idly. It was always that little part that made her think that he was somehow _jealous_of her and Heather. Jealous, despite being the one that got to hold her in his arms at night, and kiss her good morning.

Stupid, really, but she understood. After Santana and Brittany happened in the world of Glee, she understood.

The picture comes up, full screen on her phone, and she's pretty sure there's no worse feeling than the one she's feeling now.

She's had it before admittedly; the day she came onto set after weeks of shameless flirting with Heather back in the earlier years, and walked into her trailer to find a broad shouldered guy sitting on the couch, arms stretched along the back and a goofy grin on his face. Seconds later, also finding out that this was Taylor, Heather's boyfriend of four years at the time, and watching as fear and shame etched it's way across Heather's features as she came into the trailer with two cups of coffee in hand and found Naya sitting in the kitchen with tear filled eyes. All because there'd been lingering touches, almost kisses and play fights that ended in up close and personal tickles and intimately brushing locks of hair back in the few months leading up to that moment.

She's had it another time, too. Two hours before the premiere of _Glee Live! In Concert! _when she unlocked her phone to find five words come up on screen in a short text from Heather saying, "_Taylor's coming. I'm so sorry."_

Actually, she's had this feeling a lot of times, come to think of it. All of them whenever reality came knocking and she realized that fairytales don't come true and no matter how much you want something, or need it, it doesn't always happen. When reality came knocking and she was kicked – face first – out of her little Heather bubble and it sunk in that Heather was still in a relationship with her college baseball playing boyfriend, and she still had her reputation to live up to.

But none, _none _of those times was this feeling amplified like this. Amplified to the point where she's wishing that the longer she looks at this picture, the longer it _won't _be real. Because sometimes that happens. When you stare at something long enough, the lines become blurry and the image becomes fuzzy and it no longer looks like what it is. _That's _what she's wishing right now, because if this picture isn't real, if it _is _fake, then she'll be okay.

If it _isn't _though...

If it _is _real...

She doesn't quite know what's going to happen. To her, to her heart, to her mind. To her _life._

Taking in a deep, shaky breath, she reaches up with her free hand to pinch the screen, and zooms in until the pixels become large squares on her screen and the image before her becomes _really _real. And when it does, when it's there, she freezes and can't seem to tear herself away from this picture before her.

"Babe?" Matt calls, but she doesn't look up.

She's still entirely focused on the picture, and her mind is running wildly. She wants to cry. _God, _she wants to cry right now, but she can't. That would mean blurring her vision to the one thing that's so very real to her right now, and she just can't. If everything around her is fading away and making the room feel like it's spinning, and this damn picture is the only thing staying still, she _has _to keep focused on it.

In the picture, there's Heather smack bang in the center. She's peering into some reflective glass of some sort—a statue, Naya thinks—and Taylor's brother is standing beside her, peering at the camera. It's a black and white picture, and there are a few more people in the background, their bottom half distorted by the mirrored statue, but the one thing that's capturing her eye the most—the one thing curling around Naya's lungs and tightening until she's sure she can't breathe—is the little glimpse of the thin band wrapped around Heather's ring finger.

And that... _That's _how Naya finds out Heather's getting married.

/

A couple of days later, she wishes she could go back in time and just punch herself in the head for the tweet she typed out in reaction.

It's like a well known fact that you should think before you speak, and the same goes for Twitter. _Especially _because of how many retweets she gets for something she says, even if it's about a damn smoothie she made. But, she didn't think—another outcome was that her PR yelled her ears off—and so as soon as she kick started her mind into action again, and as soon as she flinched away from Matt's touch like he was an open flame to her skin when he tried to bring her out her frozen reverie, she was typing out a tweet and pressing send.

_I just __**love**__ it when Twitter tells me things before 'friends' do._

Of course, about a minute after she refreshed her page and it came up, she got a call from her PR telling her to take the damn thing down because clearly it was dripping with sarcasm and indirectly directed at someone, but it didn't matter. Tumblr blew up, and so did Twitter, many screen caps of her tweet popping up with her name on the end, and that was that. People knew and there was no way she could make them un-know.

But now, she's sitting at home, blanket wrapped around her legs as she flicks through the many TiVo'd programs on her TV. Matt hasn't talked to her in days—which she finds understandable because she refused to give him an explanation to her tweet and to the trend—and Dianna's been busy, doing her thing and sparing a few moments to text her and explain how confused the majority of the cast is after her tweet, but she's gone past the point of caring.

She hasn't even bothered to check her texts past Dianna and her mom. She doesn't think she should have to explain it to them because they've been with her throughout the whole her and Heather thing. They watched it stem from _'I like you' _and _'I like you too' _to _'we promised forever' _and _'forever doesn't exist.' _They've seen the highs and the lows and know that there's at least a few songs on her upcoming album that describe bright blue eyes and hair like the sun. They fucking _know_and yet they're still bugging her and all she wants to do—despite loving them to bits—is ask for some peace.

So she just doesn't reply to any of them. Doesn't pick up her house phone and is just waiting to _not_answer the door when they come knocking. It'll only be a matter of time.

Her house phone starts ringing, _again, _and she's broken from her wandering thoughts of white dresses, tears and broken promises. She wipes at her eyes, finding moisture there and takes in a deep breath as she climbs to her feet. Halfway to the phone, though, she remembers she doesn't want to pick up and stands there in the middle of her living room, focusing on the silver handset by the TV and watching the screen flash up with the caller ID that tells her Kevin's calling. Instantly, she feels bad and is about to head over when the ringing cuts off and the sound of her own voice flows through the room.

_"Hi, it's Naya. Leave a message after the beep."_

"_Uhm, hey Bee. Just checking in on you. Haven't heard from you in a while and your phone's off. Hope everything's alright and get back to me when you have the chance. Thanks... It's little Bee by the way."_

Naya chuckles and rolls her eyes, despite no-one being able to see her and then proceeds to chuckle a little more because of that. Her heart sinks as she looks around the house, remembering just how much she paid for this place and how upstairs she has three unused, empty bedrooms that she had some weird hope would be filled when she moved in. Something about being able to have her friends stay at her house, which was kind of ridiculous because they've all got their relationships and their things to do. Not that she doesn't have Matt, but it's not the same.

She looks around and feels the cold chill of loneliness creep down her spine as she heads back to the sofa and settles down once more, but not before an unstoppable memory flushes through her.

/

"_Google! Google now!" She exclaimed, jumping over the back of the sofa and plopping down next to Heather who was sitting cross legged with her laptop._

_Confused, Heather slid her eyes to the left and said, "What?"_

"_I got an alert that we've been tagged in a video together," she leaned across her best friend, shoulder resting against another as she practically sat on Heather's lap to reach the keyboard. Heather only shuffled, removing her grip from the laptop to Naya's waist and hoisted until her best friend was in between her legs, sitting comfortably with their legs propped up on the coffee table, Naya's back to Heather's chest._

"_So?" Heather wrapped her arms around Naya's waist, resting her chin on a shoulder to peer at the screen. "We get tagged all the time when people make fan videos of us."_

_Naya turned, only enough to look into blue eyes. "You're such a troll it's unreal."_

_Heather laughed in response._

_Typing furiously into Google, she managed to find the link she was looking for and clicked on it. _YouTube_ popped up with her name and the words _Bandslam Premiere_**.**__ She felt Heather giggle into the crook of her neck behind her and shivered, desperately trying to ignore the way her heart flipped when lips brushed against the skin there._

"_You're going to watch yourself on YouTube?" Heather asked with playful skepticism. "Could you _get _any further up your own ass?"_

_Naya narrowed her eyes, lifting one arm to slap at the hands on her stomach as she giggled. "Shut up. We're going to watch us. I just found this video first."_

"_Uh huh," Heather pressed her lips into a thin line, hiding the smile that tugged at them. "Sure."_

"_Just watch," Naya clicked play and then leant back, watching the screen flicker with the beginning image of her and Heather come up on screen – both wearing white. It was their interview from _Maximo TV, _and when she exhaled, she heard Heather suck in a sharp gasp._

_Strange, but whatever._

_It was about five seconds in when Heather said something. _"_You look super weird, tall."_

_Naya smiled, half-insulted, half-amused. "Uhm, thanks?"_

"_It's just weird," Heather tightened her arms around her midsection, reaching up to grab at caramel hands until their fingers could lace together. Naya sucked in a deep inhale when Heather's fingers slid between her own and then tried not to focus on how uncontrollably her abs were twitching when their intertwined hands rest on her stomach. "I'm supposed to be the tall one."_

"_Should've worn heels then, shouldn't you?" She quipped, turning her head until her lips were hovering dangerously close to Heather's jawline. "Then you would've towered over me."_

_Heather smiled._

"_But I like being the same height as you," she continued, shrugging. "I've always been the small one."_

_Heather scrunched up her face, adorably. Just when she thought the blonde couldn't get any cuter, Naya was proved wrong. _Jheeze_._

"5"2 isn't that small."

"_That's small for a teenager, Hemo," she replied, arching a brow. "Let alone an adult."_

_Heather squeezed her midsection. "Well I think it's cute."_

"_Yeah, cute is definitely what I want to be."_

"_Well cute is what you are." Heather stated, smiling down at her with sincerity. "Without cute, you wouldn't be you. Then I wouldn't love you."_

_Heather was always affectionate, always outspoken when it came to feelings, and always intimate and touchy. But the way she said those three little words made Naya's heart flip uncontrollably because it never quite sounded like how Heather usually said it. Smiling up at her best friend, Naya shook herself from the irrational wanderings of her mind and turned her head, settling back again with eyes on the screen._

"_Meh," she shrugged as the grunt came out her mouth and hovered over the touch pad to click play on the video again._

_They both said their names on screen, giggling and laughing at each other, but then something caught Naya's eye and she felt herself leaning closer towards the screen to examine properly._

"Recently I rocked out to Metro Station's Twist. And this girl..."

"I rocked out to Metric's new song, Hammer."

_Heather let out a small chuckle, burying her face into the crook of Naya's neck. Confused, and intrigued, Naya turned her head, brows furrowing because she didn't actually find that amusing. Then again, she was kind of distracted by the way the blonde girl was staring at her in the video; with a distant gaze and cloudy blue eyes. She let out a long sigh, because she knew she's looked at Heather like that before; but that was during a time where she thought she liked her best friend._

_She bit back the bitter chuckle that tickled up her throat at the memory._

_Glancing back towards the screen, she studied the Heather on screen for a few moments, watching her as she watched the on screen Naya. She remembered the time she thought she liked Heather. How she found herself staring on set constantly and giggling like a thirteen year old girl whenever Heather made a slightly funny joke. That was a weird time but she couldn't quite place how she felt because it was all too confusing for her. Too many new things were happening at once, like Glee and moving into a new apartment, and she just didn't want to think about why she would find herself gazing at Heather like a lost puppy, or why her heart flipped whenever Heather touched her._

"_Whatcha thinking about?"_

_Snapping herself out her thoughts, she met quizzical sapphire orbs. "What were you laughing at?"_

_Heather grinned, ignoring the sudden change in conversation. "You know that Metric don't have a song called Hammer, right?"_

"_They do so!" Naya half-yelled, blood rushing up to her face._ _Even when that interview was being conducted, she remembers freaking out because she wasn't entirely sure if that was the correct title of the song. She just went with the first line of the song she could think of. Which happened to be something that belonged in a tool box._

"_Honey," Heather murmured. "The song's called _Help I'm Alive_."_

_Feeling like she just got caught red-handed, she twisted her body, legs strewn over Heather's lap so her ribs met her best friends front and buried her face into loose blonde locks. She purposely ignored the hitch she heard in the other girl's throat when she ran her nose up the muscle in Heather's neck, knowing if she started thinking about things like that she wouldn't stop._

"_Well that's embarrassing." It came out as a muffle against fabric. Heather laughed._

"_Sweetie, you totally don't have to worry. You look so gorgeous that everyone would just totally fall in love with you in this video if they hadn't already."_

_Naya felt her heart flip rapidly. "Really?"_

"_Of course." Fingers ran through her hair, tugging gently until she was looking up at her best friend as she said, "Worked for me."_

_She blushed, head ducking again. "You're just saying that."_

"_Oh really?"_

_Naya didn't have time to answer before Heather's shifting her onto the spare space on the couch, and grabbing the laptop to pull into her lap. She typed away furiously for a few seconds, then hovered with the mouse pad and clicked down. From her angle, Naya could see the screen flash white and then go back to the page again, as if it was refreshed. Confusion rung through her as she tried to figure out what was going on._

"_What did you do?"_

_Heather smiled and shrugged. "Just told everyone how damn gorgeous you are and how in love with you I am."_

_The thing was with Heather was that when she said things, it usually either had connotations pointing towards other things, or meant something else entirely. Like the time when she told Naya her pussy was wet. Whereas Naya's mouth gaped open and she just looked entirely gob smacked because she had absolutely no idea what to say to that, Heather just shrugged and said, "Zach went out in the rain."_

_So it was times like that, when Heather said something that could make Naya the luckiest person in the entire world, or the most foolish, she kind of hated that Brittany stemmed from Heather as a real person. It was just confusing and it wasn't even like she could ask one of the writers for a translation, so she just stayed there, basking in her own confusion._

"_You might wanna remove that, HeMo." Naya said, lowly, swinging her legs off the couch and standing. "PR will be all over our ass' and read that totally wrong."_

_Heather shrugged. "I don't care. It's true."_

_Naya eyed her suspiciously as she turned, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. "Now you've written that you know that's going to be there forever, right? People take screen caps of that kind of stuff."_

"_I know."_

"_So you're okay with that being there forever?"_

_Heather stood and held out her hand wordlessly, urging a tanned one into her own. Naya obliged, and instantly fingers slid through the gaps of her own as she continued to stare at her best friend, waiting for an answer she wasn't sure she was going to get. But then blue eyes sparkled down at her – the breath ripping straight from her lungs – and Heather smiled at her and made her heart just skipped an unhealthy amount of beats._

"_Well I'll promise you I mean what I said forever and then it won't matter," the blonde girl said and ended her sentence by leaning forward to press a promising kiss to Naya's forehead and then pulling her into a hug._

_Naya just grinned and closed her eyes. Forever sounded good when it was in Heather's arms._

/

It's weird, because despite Hollywood being home to the rich and the famous, she's never run into like, Bruce Willis or Halle Berry in the street after they've come out of a hair salon or the gym.

Yet somehow, some-_fucking_-how after she grabs her morning coffee from Starbucks, and heads outside, she runs right into the one person she really _doesn't _want to see right now. The one person that makes her chest seize, vision waver and heart ache as she awkwardly turns away with the hope that maybe, just _maybe _she wasn't seen. She quickly plucks her sunglasses from down on top of her head, shading her bloodshot eyes and begins to head in the complete _opposite _direction to her car when she bumbles into a crowd of tourists who glare at her for a split second before their heads tilt in recognition.

Seriously, God must fucking hate her today because then someone yells her name and all the tourists begin to smile and a few—the few that probably watch Glee—clap their hands and then buzz around excitedly, and begin to ask her for an autograph. Don't get her wrong, she loves her fans, but with her mood and the risk that she might have been seen by _that _person, she just doesn't want to do this right now.

But then someone grabs her wrist, and she whips her head around because never has a fan got handsy with her. A narrowed glare—one she uses for Santana—crosses her face but as soon as it's there, it buckles and falters and then she's staring into soft blue eyes. Because Heather's there, wearing knee length sweatpants, a loose grey tank top and looking so incredibly gorgeous that the beauty actually reaches inside Naya's chest and fists her heart, fingers tightening until she's sure she's about to pass out.

They stare at each other in silence for long moments, eyes searching eyes. Heather looks at her pleadingly, and it takes a minute to realize that the finger's curled around her wrist have moved south and lightly wrapped around her own fingers. A few more seconds later, and she remembers the people surrounding them and how it barely takes a minute for photos to find their way onto the internet and anger slices through her, mixing with the lingering pain and creating an excruciating concoction.

"Can we talk?" Heather whispers. "Please."

But Naya sets her jaw in a determined manner and shakes her head, slowly, letting her shoulders slump with the lack of fight. "About what?" She mutters, defeated, hoping no-one is recording this conversation.

Heather's eyes dart around nervously, then she swallows heavily. "Just... can we?" She responds, eyes glossing over.

Naya's mouth opens to splutter out something along the lines of _don't marry him _and _you picked the wrong person _but then Heather twists her hand nervously and something sparkles against the sunlight, capturing Naya's vision. Instantly, she tears her hand away, and feels the blonde girl's entire body flinch as she ducks past her and begins walking back to her car, speedily, struggling to hold back the heat prickling at her eyelids and cheeks from the sudden reminder.

Fumbling with her keys inside her pocket, she unlocks her car and practically breaks into a sprint to reach the drivers side door. She yanks it open and slides in, shoving her coffee cup into the holder by the radio panel before pushing the key into the ignition, wanting nothing more than to get out of here and away from Heather.

But then she hears a tap on the window and sees Heather standing right outside, surrounded by people and flashes and she's suddenly incredibly glad for her tinted windows. It hits her in the stomach like a punch when her eyes lock with blue ones, because they're full of hope and because it's Heather, because it's _always _Heather, she reaches down to the button on the center console of her car and is about a millisecond from unlocking the door when something over Heather's shoulder catches her eye.

She freezes, hand hovering in the air and suddenly the pressure comes crashing down on her. They've barely even spoken a few words and yet a whole conversation has traded between them, and now this whole car and standing outside surrounded by swarming fans feels like some crappy metaphor to something so much bigger. Swallowing against her thickening throat, she pulls her hand back and sees Heather tilt her head to the side and narrow her eyes, hurt and rejection flashing across her face.

"No..." she whispers to herself, but the blonde girl sees the lip movement and her entire body deflates, and Naya clamps her jaw together to hold back the tears filling her eyes. "It's okay."

Heather just looks at her, begging for an explanation with her eyes and Naya shakes her head, knowing she'll never be able to give one for what she's doing. Because how can you tell someone that you can't be around them anymore? That you can't see them or be their friend because it hurts too goddamn much? How the fuck is she supposed to turn around and tell Heather—the woman she's madly, deeply, and heart-breakingly in love with—that after everything they've been through, that she's okay with what they are. With what they're _not._

She can't, and so she's doing the only thing she can do, and walk away.

"_Naya," _Heather says and lifts her fist to rap on the window one more time when an arm slings around her shoulder and recognition and realization slaps her across the face. Her entire expression drops, and Naya clenches her jaw as she takes the handbrake off and peels away from the curb, begging her body not to give into the tears desperately trying to escape.

/

She shoots up at the sound of someone hammering on her door. Grunting to herself, she gets herself upright and stumbles her way out the living room, through the hallway and towards the front door, pulling the blanket with her as she squints and rubs away the ache from the back of her eyes.

Last night, she spent a good five hours crying over her aching heart with a tub of Ben & Jerry's and _Love Actually _playing on TV, and so now she can feel the swollen bags beneath her eyes and how dry they are and most probably, bloodshot, and knows that all hope of not looking like she was dragged through a hedge backwards has shot straight out the window. The tears and heart ache were so damn much that she actually cried herself to sleep on the damn sofa, and now, thanks to that, she has a crick in her neck and is in a foul mood. But, whatever, she doesn't even care. Not like she wasn't in a foul mood already.

As soon as she opens the door, someone barges past and she spins around in time to find Dianna staring at her with a cocked brow, narrowed hazel eyes and pursed lips. Whatever's happened is so _not _good and judging by the glare she's receiving, _she's _done something to make her friend look like that. _Great. _Just what she needs.

"Hello, Dianna Please, do come into my home," she says sarcastically, turning back to close the front door. God only knows the paps would just _love _to catch a half-asleep Naya Rivera, days after finding out about her once best friend's engagement and leaving said best friend on the side of the road with her stupid fiancee.

"Naya, what are you doing?"

She twists around again, arms crossing over her chest. "Well I _was _asleep," she responds, pushing her way past her friend and back into the living room. "But then you woke me up so..."

"Not with that you idiot," Dianna chides. "With _this_," she throws down a magazine onto the cushion next to Naya and Naya lowers her vision to the object.

Gingerly, she picks it up; a sudden rush of fear shooting through her for what she's to see and she thinks it's stupid until she peels it open and realizes the fear was completely rational. On the front of there's a picture of Heather standing by the side of the road, Taylor by her side looking off in the distance to where she knows is her car, and it's utterly heartbreaking to see the expression on Heather's face.

Her expression is sad, but not sad in the sad usually means, like a child that just had it's toy taken away from it. No, her face is sad in the _I just lost everything I ever wanted and I'm lost _way and it slices straight through Naya's feelings until she's raw and the dull thud of her aching heart is the only thing she can hear.

Dianna sees it as it hits her, and she manages to keep it together for all of about five seconds before there's a rumbling in the back of her throat and she's whimpering broken sobs. Arms wrap around her body, pulling her into the warmth of a body and it's almost shameful how must she needs that right now; of how much she fucking needs it.

Soft "_it's okay"s _and "_I'm here for you"s _are hushed into her hair and it only makes her cling tighter to her friend, nails biting into Dianna's skin because no, it's not okay. Nothing is okay and she feels like she's underwater, struggling to swim to the surface and trying to breathe at the same time she's reaching for things she just can't get a hand on. Everything's so screwed up and before she could deal with it. Before she was strong enough to, but now she can't. She just fucking can't anymore.

It's been too long without Heather. It's been too long since she last smiled and actually _felt _the smile in her chest. Sure, people make her smile – Dianna's her strength, and takes her out for coffee and lays her shit down on the line and is basically one of the best friends anyone could ask for. Kevin's her little bee; he's gorgeous and funny and always manages to get a laugh out of her even on the darkest of days. And hell, even Matt's good to her.

She has a lot of people that are wonderful to her; she's surrounded by people that care and by people that will always be there for her... But it's just not the same.

Since Heather's been gone—well, since everything got so damn complicated after the tour—she's just felt so damn alone. She's not weak; she's never been weak, but Heather gave her strength she didn't know she needed and since it's been gone, she hasn't been entirely sure of anything, really.

But there was still that little spark inside of her. That tiny little beacon of hope that maybe, somehow, the past would rewrite itself and one day she'd open her door to Heather standing there, pleading with her eyes and giving her heart wholly. Because that was one of the main reasons they couldn't ever be together in the first place; there were always outstanding factors including boyfriends, family, fame and all the bullshit that follows and over time they _had _to come to accept it. They _had _to because there wasn't anything else left for them. Everything around them would have crumbled into tiny little shards of glass because that's how damn fragile they were and Naya guesses, still are to this day.

She just thought after everything that happened between them—after all the late night calls and texts, after the initial _"I like you" _and _"I like you too" _and then after they progressed onto the fluttering stomachs and eventual kisses and touches—after all of _that_, she just thought that Heather would have the decency and respect to tell her about getting engaged to a guy that doesn't deserve her. That _yes, _makes her relatively happy and is the better choice for a husband—if you want the whole _white-picket-fence-golden-Labrador-Volvo-dealership-down-the-road-and-a-baby-in-the-crib-thing—_but still won't love Heather and treat her the way she should be treated.

Not that she's saying she _could _do that.

But she didn't even get a chance to try.

Fingers brush back the hair fallen across her face, and she sniffs in her tears at the same time Dianna speaks. "Naya, you need to talk to her."

Her heart sinks and she swallows against the thickness building in her throat. She nods shakily, her lower lip still quivering as she wipes the tears from her face. "I can't," she replies, suddenly hating the sadness in her own voice. "I just can't."

She doesn't get a response; instead, Dianna just pulls her closer and leans back against the sofa as a wave of fresh tears crashes over her.

/

She never meant for her life to become one huge damn cliché.

She never meant to be the person that had the fame, the fortune, the looks and everything anyone could ever want but lack the one thing that she freaking _needed_**. **

She never even fucking meant to give into the stereotypical stigma of falling in love with her best friend either, but it was just hard for all it _not _to happen when it was Heather; because it was and still is, _Heather._There's nothing about that girl that could repel anyone, and it's kind of hard to believe the entire world isn't just head over heels in love with Heather, really.

But then again, Naya supposes she never saw it coming herself. And since she was freaking blindsided by the sudden realization of just how imperfectly perfect Heather is, it'll only be a matter of time before the entire world does the same as her and is undeniably and irrevocably in love with someone she they can't ever have.

/

_It was one of those days where they were just doing nothing. They had the weekend off and somehow Heather coming over for a pizza and a movie on Friday night turned into spending the entire weekend together. But, Naya didn't mind. She never did._

_They were sitting on the sofa; Heather lying width ways with her long legs resting over Naya's thighs, whose feet were propped up on the coffee table as she read through the last few chapters of her book, and the TV was blaring some reality show that Heather wanted to watch. There was nothing especially significant about this day, and it wasn't like really even like one of those shocking moments where Naya saw the light and was utterly gobsmacked by the realization of her true feelings._

_It was just a single moment, where something funny happened on TV and Heather let out her heavenly laughter, and her face cracked into a toothy grin, her cat like eyes narrowed and nose wrinkled slightly, and Naya just felt right there, in the left side of her chest. Felt it in her chest and smiled at the way the warmth of that feeling that'd been lingering within her since she'd met Heather, spread over her body as she glanced away from her book, nudged her glasses further up her nose and just stared at her best friend._

_And then it just kind of came out. Completely unplanned and unexpected and she couldn't even stop herself._

_**"**I think I'm in love with you."_

_The most shocking thing about it was, was probably the fact that Heather barely looked away from the screen as she offered a teasing smile and an arched brow, "You _think _you are?" She grinned. "I'm almost offended."_

_Naya just narrowed her eyes and then they flickered around as if she was looking for someone else in the room to ask _did that just happen? _Of all the things she was expecting as a reply to that, the one she got was certainly not on the list. She told her best friend she might be in love with her and all Heather could do was smile and fucking _mock _her. What the hell?_

_**"**You're not freaked out?"_

_Heather pressed her lips together and twisted her head to look at her. She sighed, shook her head whilst a small smile played at her mouth and then said, "You really don't know, do you?"_

"_Know what?"_

"_About us," Heather gestured between them and pulled her legs up to her own body, shuffling her ass forward until she was basically sitting on top of Naya, legs strewn across legs._

_Incredibly confused, Naya shook her head and squinted because frankly she didn't know what the fuck was going on. She just blurted that she thought she was in love, and Heather's talking to her like they're discussing what they're going to have for dinner tonight._

"_You're gonna have to spell this out for me, Hemo," she said, trying not to catch her breath at how her best friend was leaning in closer towards her._

It failed, though, because Heather came so close that she could count every freckle that ran along the top of the cheeks and over the bridge of her nose, and saw that little sparkle in her bright blue eyes that made Naya's insides melt because it was

her _sparkle. The one that only happened when Heather looked at _her.

_Heather smiled, and looked away, almost embarrassed, before glancing back towards her hand, tracing aimless patterns along the dip of Naya's collarbones. "Fate laid a hand," she whispered, her finger moving up the column of a tanned throat and blue eyes flicking up to meet expectant brown ones when Naya's pulse point jumped operatically underneath her touch. "You said that, yourself."_

"_I did..."_

"_So, I thought you knew since then."_

_Naya sucked in a shaky breath, ignoring the way her heart was thudding impossibly loud against her chest. So loud, that she was scared Heather could feel it. At that time, she didn't know what was running through her mind; fear, adoration, love, anger, confusion—all of the above, and all she wanted to know was that what she felt was felt back. That's all she needed but there was this thickness inside her throat and hard coating around her heart that was stopping her from doing that._

_So instead, she tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and murmured, "Heather, I'm confused," because that's the only thing she could say._

_No response followed though, and feeling defeated and like one word could break her, Naya allowed her eyes to flutter shut. If only she'd just kept her mouth shut then they wouldn't be having this conversation and Heather wouldn't be breathing irregularly a few centimeters away from her face. There wouldn't be this awkwardness between them and uncertainty of where she stood in Heather's life—because there was the boyfriend problem a few weeks back and who knew what was going on between Taylor and Heather now—and she wouldn't be thinking that she'd just ruined the best thing that ever happened to her. The best thing that fate had ever and could ever bring her._

_Well, those were the thoughts running through her mind before she felt a thumb and a forefinger lightly pinch her chin and tilt up until warm lips brushed against her own; catching on her bottom lip and sucking gently. She was pretty sure her heart stopped beating and mind sizzled out right then and there because _fuck, _Heather was fucking _kissing _her. And not in the platonic peck on the lips between friends kiss; like, full on, _I want you _type kissing with a tongue grazing over her bottom lip and then slipping into her mouth and curling around her teeth._

_That kiss wasn't friendly. It was as far from friendly as freaking possible and when she managed to kick start her brain into kissing back, a moan vibrated into her mouth and everything went blank again. So, knowing she had zero chance in even trying to pull away and question Heather—because she was still pretty confused as to what they were and to how Heather felt in return—she just kissed back with as much passion as she could, her hands finding slim hips and tugging until a knee was digging either side of her hips and Heather was straddling her and cupping her cheeks to keep their mouths together._

_And when they became breathless, and were forced to break the kiss, when the need for oxygen became to much and they _had _to pull apart, a forehead tilted against her own and clear blue eyes bore straight past her eyes and into her soul and she couldn't help but smile into the soft barely kiss Heather pressed against her lips._

_Because that... _That _was the first time Naya was one hundred percent sure Heather Morris loved her back._

/

Naya sighs as her tired body is shifted, letting the memory wash through her unwanted and painful.

She closes her stinging eyes, resting her head back against the sofa cushions as a soft kiss is pressed to her forehead and Dianna whispers, "get some sleep, honey. I'll be back tomorrow," before heading out the front door and closing it quietly behind her.

Naya doesn't know when things got so damn complicated.

She doesn't know how things went from being so fucking easy to being the hardest thing _ever._

But she needs to know.

She has to, because whilst she may be okay with Heather and Taylor – she's _almost_ starting to believe herself – she _needs _to know why she wasn't worthy of the news that would break her. Why Heather didn't respect her enough to fucking _tell _her that she was engaged and instead she had to find out through fucking _Twitter. _A site that even Heather herself won't join because of the way news spreads through social networking.

She _needs _to know.

So she's going to find out.

/

"_Yeah, yeah, Di," Naya joked, winking towards her friend. "We'll just see who's hotter on the red carpet, tonight."_

_Dianna laughed and rolled her eyes as Naya skipped across her living room floor to retrieve her phone. It'd been buzzing for the past five minutes but due to Dianna's unplanned visit, she wasn't able to get to it._

_Although, it would only take thirty seconds and a text to realize how badly she _should _have picked up._

"_What do you think then?" Dianna followed her into the living room and threw herself down on the sofa. "Spiky or flat?"_

"_Don't you have like, a stylist for that?" Naya responded as she spotted her phone on the arm chair by the front window. Her eyes caught the time on the clock above the fireplace and she continued with, "And you're leaving it pretty damn late, Di. You've got two hours to get ready."_

"_I don't need time to look gorgeous, Nay-Nay," the blonde flipped her off, playfully. "And you just got your hair done ridiculously early."_

_Naya chuckled as she clutched her phone and ran her thumb over the screen, quickly punching in her code and opening the text there. If she'd looked at the locked screen previously, she wouldn't have been so surprised to read the text that made her heart ache and lip quiver. But she didn't and so instead she was entirely focused on how she woke up two hours earlier than usual to open her front door to her hair stylist and stylist, and then sat down as they worked around her; clipping in extensions and curling the tips perfectly._

_Then she read the text and it took a few minutes to register exactly what those five words meant because it only meant one thing. Heather and Taylor were officially back together. They'd been on the rocks for a while and as much as she felt guilty, she loved that fact._

_But then the text came and everything good, happy and hopeful drained straight out of her._

Taylor's coming. I'm so sorry, _it says, and she suddenly hated that she was going tonight. Because going tonight meant going alone._

_That was the second time Heather ever broke her._

/

And so she's standing outside Heather's house, now.

_What if she doesn't open the door? _She thinks, fiddling with her keys as she heads up the steps towards the front door.

Her heart sinks at the mere thought, and she almost turns around right then and there, knowing she doesn't have the strength to do this. Barely a few hours ago she was curled up against Dianna, sobbing to her heart's content because the woman she had been trying _not _to be in love with, was marrying a guy that Naya, on several occasions had said was actually pretty decent—she still hates that—and now she's standing outside Heather's fucking house, staring at the door with no idea as to why she's really here.

The entire journey was filled with small rants and her fists flexing against the steering wheel as she tried to decide what to say. There were many things. Like, hundreds, but now she's here, actually _about _to say them, they all seem to have disappeared from her mind. Even if she's been waiting for a moment like this for years, and has been saving up all the memories of her and Heather together, and remembered the times that her heart was aching because of Heather just for _this _moment. Yet, now that it's _actually _here... She has nothing.

She thinks she's been thinking so damn hard that her mind's gone into overload and burnt out, kind of like a computer does when too much happens at once. It's given out and so now she's just standing on Heather's stoop and staring up at the door with no idea as to what to do.

The sun is setting, leaving the sky to be a dull orange that'll soon twist into a dark blue, and she knows that if she's recognized right now, if someone freaking tweets that they saw 'Santana from Glee' standing outside someone's door, no doubt the paparazzi would be down here in a shot and have a fucking field day. Which leads her to the conclusion that if she's going to do this, she needs to do it pronto. Her body, her heart and her mind can't wait, and no doubt that couple that's walking past can't wait to tell someone they've seen 'that Latina actress' and so she really needs to hurry the hell up.

So, taking in a large, shaky breath and ridding the thoughts of random couples and the paparazzi, she reaches up to let a single finger hover over the door bell. Her eyes wander over the door of the panel as she encourages herself to proceed. To just press down and ring the damn bell because it's not like she hasn't been here before and rang this damn bell a thousand times; it's just that she's never rang the bell and had to spill her heart out to Heather after doing so.

At the last second, she backs out and kicks her feet out quickly, shaking her rambling thoughts as she substitutes the bell for three short raps on the center panel of the door with her knuckles. She does it a little harder than necessary, and if it wasn't for the rapid pace of her heartbeat, or the adrenaline coursing through her body, she'd probably be wincing at the sting in her hand.

But before she can really even think anymore about that, the door swings open and then Heather's standing there, eyes red and blood shot and a tissue clutched in her right hand as she crosses her arms over her chest. She's wearing baggy sweatpants, rolled a little at her hips and a baggy red t-shirt with _Louisiana _scribbled across the upper half.

And if she weren't panicking before, she certainly fucking is now.

Coming here was such a stupid fucking idea. Coming here to demand answers has _definitely_ got to be one of the most idiotic things she's ever done – and _Christ, _she thought it would be a good idea to go on a TV show and freaking _pole dance _just so it could come back and bite her in the ass_._

It's not a good idea—_God _it really isn't—because this isn't_ just_ Heather's house. It's fucking Heather _and _Taylor's and she's just come here without even considering the fact that Taylor could have opened the door and _fuck, _she really should have thought this through. Heather's even wearing Taylor's damn college t-shirt and it's just another reminder that Heather _isn't _hers. Heather isn't hers and never really has been because she wasn't the better choice. Taylor was and now Taylor has what she _should _have had. What she _would _have had if they were in a different world, a different life.

"Naya?" Heather sniffs, breaking the silence and Naya's thoughts. "What are you—what are you doing here?"

Naya snaps her head up, and the frozen cold panic seeps through her veins, making her legs burn with the urge to run back to her car and forget she ever came here in the first place. But then there's Heather staring at her with slightly swollen eyes and it occurs to Naya that Heather's already been crying, and that maybe she really _shouldn't _have come here because Heather's already upset and she doesn't fucking need Naya telling her all this shit she's been keeping back for the past few years. So Naya can't do that now. Not with Heather _already _upset.

That's what her mind tells her, anyway.

But apparently her heart has other ideas and before she knows it, the words just pour out.

"You chose the wrong person."

Heather's head jerks back a little in shock, then she squints like she can't quite believe what she heard and says, "What?"

Naya tugs her bottom lip between her teeth and chews nervously at the same time her feet move forward and the confidence surges through her. "It should have been me," she whispers, honestly, praying that the urge to vomit fades away pronto. "You should have chosen _me_."

Heather's eyes drown in sadness and confusion and she shakes her head, brows pulling together. Naya knows that looks, she knows the way Heather's face crumples before she's going to cry and reject Naya because it's happened so many damn times before. So many times that luckily, Naya can catch it before the words spill out.

"Naya... I—"

"No," she interjects, stepping back in instinct when the blonde girl steps forward onto the stoop with her. "No, Heather," she continues, waving with her hand to stop Heather as she moves back onto the top step, her eyes shutting as she wills herself to say what she needs to. What she came here to and what she _has _to. "Just let me say this. I've been thinking this for a long time and I just need—I just _need _to get this out," she gets out the words quickly, stuttering over herself and trying to calm her nerves by pinching the skin between her eyebrows and massaging gently.

The thing is—

It's just that—

_Fuck. _Even though she knows she pretty much _has _to do this, she's not sure she can. At some point in her life, she's going to have to let go of things that can't be to move onto things that _can _be. She doesn't _want _Heather to be something that can never be hers, but that's just how everything's turned out. Never can it be doubted that fate laid a hand, because she knows, Heather knows, damn, fucking _everyone _knows that it was invisible forces and twisted events that brought them together. So many opportunities should have kept them apart, and though some of the things that happened were bad that brought them together, they still ended up in each others lives.

Although, Naya thinks that maybe even if it weren't for those events, they'd still have met, because sometimes two people are just _supposed _to meet. It happened to John Cusack and Kate Beckinsale in _Serendipty, _so why the hell shouldn't it happen to her?

Her mind tells her the answer: _Serendipity _was just a movie and shit like that doesn't happen in real life. Not to her, anyway.

Getting back to the point, she's not sure she can do it because of that. Never before has she ever had a conversation that could quite possibly ruin them; ruin their friendship, or relationship, or whatever the hell they had. And yet she's standing here, with only pain and hurt as her fuel, about to delve into a conversation that she knows has the potential to ruin fucking everything.

Then again, everything's pretty much ruined already, so she might not have anything to lose.

(Apart from the one thing she's ever been one hundred percent sure about.)

"I know what we had is over," she starts, the nerves creeping through her body and making her stomach churn. "I know it is and I know it was for the best," she winces and tries to ignore the way Heather shakes her head like she's disagreeing. That just hurts. More than she thought it would.

"I've come to accept that over time and I guess—" she pauses to suck in a deep breath through her nose and lets her eyes flutter shut; wondering whether these words are true or whether she's just trying to convince herself they are. "I guess that I understand why you chose Taylor," she says, eyes slowly opening just in time to catch the way Heather's mouth drops open to protest. Fear pulses through her and she shifts forward, fingernails biting into the skin of her wrist to try and quell some of it. "I get that you chose him because he was the easier choice. And as much as that _sucks,_" the lower half of her face falters and lips quiver. She's not entirely sure she can get through this because even _she _doesn't believe herself and Heather knows her better than she knows herself.

"I know you're happier with him, Heather," Naya's voice is soft and understanding, but there's an underlying level of sadness that she sees reflect in blue eyes and her heart suddenly feels a hell of a lot heavier than it did a second ago. "I know you are... but you could have told me yourself." Heather stares at her and clamps her jaw shut. "You could have told me instead of me finding out through _Twitter."_

The anger burns inside of her and Heather gulps and looks down, clearly ashamed. Naya feels a bittersweet thread of satisfaction burn through her and tilts her head up a little as if she's showing the feeling. Heather's shoulders deflate in reaction and then guilt floods over the satisfaction until Naya wonders if there's some procedure to remove feelings; everything would be so fucking easy.

"I didn't deserve that," she says, her voice strengthening a little as her legs lead her backwards. It's almost like some weird type of sign to show Heather that she's giving up. That she's drifting away because she can't take it anymore. Not any of it; the waiting, the wondering, the feelings. She's just had enough.

"I didn't deserve all that hurt and humiliation that I felt because _everyone _knew before me," she waves her arm around to the space beside her as if gesturing to the world and Heather flinches. "Fucking_ everyone _knew, Heather, and that just wasn't fair."

Tears prick at her eyelids, the heat creeping upon her cheeks as she swallows against an ever thickening throat. For endless days she's been spending her time thinking about this; about Heather and Taylor, about how fucking miserable she is and when the hell her life turned into this.

"And I just thought—"

"Naya..." Heather tries to cut in, her voice dipping and too-sad eyes begging her to stop.

But Naya holds strong and shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut and scrunching her face like she's trying to block out the blonde girl's words. There have been too many times before where she's got _that _look and something inside of her has held back the words she's needed to say. Too many times and this just can't be one of them. All of the time they've known each other, she's had this little inkling that their friendship would come to a crux; would come to something final. Like this conversation.

Honestly, she thought it would take a little longer. Honestly, after their _thing _finished she thought she'd be feeling something different when she came to the finale of their relationship. Because instead of feeling like a rapidly wilting flower, where her heart sinks and everything bright and beautiful fades away, she feels anger. She feels anger and betrayal and disappointment because after all this fucking time—after all those slow, lazy kisses, lingering touches, heart felt conversations and all that time spent with Heather—she thought that after all that, Heather could respect her enough to tell her about her damn engagement. That's the least she deserved, and yet Heather couldn't even fucking give her that.

It's just not fucking fair.

"You could've told me," Naya sobs, her chest wracking and delving into infuriated tears. She swipes the small drops at the corner of her eyes with her sleeves and shakes her head again, stepping closer.

Heather doesn't move, just whimpers a little when she reaches out and Naya steps away again, pulling her hand back like it touched an open flame. But Naya doesn't want to feel that pull inside of her chest; that heart wrenching, throat clawing pull that makes her feel bad for hurting Heather like that. For reaction to her touch like that. But then there's that other pull, further north, inside her head which is screaming how ridiculous that is, because it's _nothing _in comparison to what Heather's done to her.

"After everything between us," Naya whispers as blue eyes sting with tears and memories. "After everything we've been through, I thought you could—" she swallows a shaky gasp and evens out her voice. "I thought you could at least give me that."

It's almost surprising to hear her own voice, because she can hear how tired and low it is. But it's not tired from lack of sleep, it's tired from heartache, and wishing that things could be different when they never will be.

Heather shifts, crossing her arms over her body and hugging herself as she stares at Naya, mouth popping open to speak but Naya knows she can't hear it. She can't hear an explanation, or an attempt at an explanation because realistically speaking there isn't one. Everything that happened has happened and nothing can be taken back, but that's not what hurts the most, Naya thinks. What hurts the most is that they're so close to each other right now, so damn close and yet it feels like there's miles between them because some things just don't work out the way you want them too, no matter how hard you wish or try.

And that's why Naya shakes her head when she realizes Heather's not even going to _try. _She's not even going to try and save them and that really fucking _hurts. _It hits her in the gut like a punch and a small, bitter laugh bubbles through her lips as the silence between them grows.

So, with disappointment, pain, irritation and heartache surging through her, Naya turns away and leaves, feeling blue eyes burn into her back as she climbs in her car and peels away from the curb; tears streaming down her face and the space between the left side of her ribs aching impossibly so.

/

[2/3]


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Even The Sun Sets In Paradise [2/3]  
**Rating:** Hard R  
**Length: **11.7k

_/_

She breaks up with Matt on the drive back.

It's a short text; one she know will come back to bite her in the ass because, hello? Breaking up with someone over text is _so _thirteen year old girl, and it just says _I can't be with you anymore. I'm sorry._

She hates the way it sounds so damn sad, and more than that, she hates that she feels absolutely zero guilt for dumping a guy she's been with for the past nine months. That's longer than her usual relationships, and whilst, yeah, Matt acted like an ass the majority of the time, there was something inside of him that kept them together.

But then instead of receiving a reply, her phone buzzes insistently and she has to pull up on the curb to answer the call.

_"You're breaking up with me?"_

"I'm sorry, Matt, I just—"

_"It's because of _her_, isn't it?"_He retorts, disgust evident in his tone. She can just imagine him snarling as he thinks of reasons to their break up and a flood of relief washes over her to know she's getting rid of that.

_"It's because of that fucking show and that fucking stupid dykey storyline, isn't it? It's getting to you and making you think differently." _Naya shakes her head, pulling her brows together as she listens to him; anger curdling inside of her second by second. _"You're fucking straight, Naya. You love cock. You love _my _cock. So stop being so fucking stupid. We're not breaking up."_

He says it with such finality that Naya jerks her head back and widens her eyes; wondering how in the hell she ever delved into a relationship with him before. The way he phrases that makes bile singe up her throat and she swallows against it, wincing at the acidity of the liquid. She processes the words, her chest heaving more and more as the silence goes by and then the last thing she ever expected happens, and she lets out a small laugh of disbelief.

"We _are _breaking up, Matt," she says, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "We're breaking up and I don't want you to contact me ever again."

_"It is because of Heather, isn't it?" _He rages and Naya can hear the jealousy in his voice. _"God, when will you get it into your mind that she doesn't want you, Naya. She doesn't want you because she's straight and engaged so stop being so fucking stupid and—"_

She doesn't let him finish; instead, feels the sweet tinge of satisfaction sweep through her as she brings the phone away from her ear and taps down on the red button. The _she doesn't want you _seeps down through her veins and curls around her lungs, and as soon as her phone drops to the passenger seat, the tears begin to pour.

Even if it is just Matt saying that, it still hurts because she knows it's true.

Heather doesn't want her and the words echo in her mind until the fabric of her jeans are soaked with tears.

/

It's weird to think she's alone again, but she kind of wishes she was sad about it.

Technically speaking, she's been alone for a while now because even when she was with Matt, she was never _with _Matt. That spark, that _thing, _that two people are supposed to have just wasn't there and regardless of their nine month relationship, it never spouted or appeared.

Anyway, them hooking up the first time was just a rebound reaction to the sucker punch of an announcement that Heather was planning on moving in with Taylor. That night, where a few of them were all at Dianna's for a night in - Heather wasn't there - Naya overheard Jenna talking to Lea about Cory and where they were heading in terms of their relationship. Of course, that'd led to Lea grinning and remembering, and promptly telling Jenna that Heather and Taylor were moving in together sometime after the New Year

Despite being in the middle of a conversation with Kevin, Naya had whipped her head around and scrunched her face together in disbelief. At first, she hadn't believed it because she was sure Heather would tell her. But then after she stepped away from her Bee and asked Lea to repeat what she just said, Dianna set a hand on her shoulder and said that Heather had told her and Lea when they went out to dinner one night.

Naya made a swift exit and slipped into her car, quickly scrolling into her contacts to find Matthew Hodgson's number_—_one of the writer's she'd hung out with once or twice in the past few years_—_and dialed it, asking him if he wanted to go for a drink. It was stupid, and now she regrets it because her and tequila have never bode well and it didn't take long before she was lying in his bed, legs spread as he breathed hot and heavy on her face as he thrust into her.

He was never going to be the guy she fell head over heels in love with. She was never going to fall truly, madly and deeply in love with him nor give him her heart.

Because it was already someone elses.

And the worst part?

It still is.

/

Buying her house on Beverley Hills probably wasn't one of the best ideas she's ever had.

Speaking for her image, it's pretty good to have a four bedroomed house with indoor sauna and pool. But speaking for herself, it just reminds her of how damn lonely she is because three of those four fucking bedrooms are unused and filled with labeled cardboard boxes, and at least half of those three thousand square feet she owns have barely been freaking walked on.

So when she walks in and the cool chill of loneliness pricks at her skin, she considers turning around and heading over to Dianna or Kevin's place, just so she doesn't have to be alone. But then she remembers that Dianna's somewhere in Europe and Kevin is at his girlfriend's parents place for the weekend and skulks into the living room where she sinks onto the sofa heavily.

The cushions dip beneath her weight and feel like they're sucking in her body and a low hum of approval escapes her because that's one of the reasons she bought the damn sofa. It brought back that same warmth that she felt whenever Heather slid into her bed and pressed up against her, long arms snaking around her waist and pulling her close.

It's a devastating reminder of the previous events of this evening and before she knows it she's up and heading for the cabinet over the sink, grabbing a bottle of wine and a glass and hastily pouring it out before throwing it back to quell the sharp ache throbbing in her heart. She winces a little, dropping the glass back to the counter top before pressing her palms to the cool marble and leaning forward, hanging her head down and closing her eyes.

Even with the closure she's sure will come with time, after all, that's what she went to Heather's house for, she's still not one hundred percent sure how she feels. It's just so surreal that she's _finally _done it. _Finally _told Heather everything and cracked open that bottle of feelings that's been building inside of her for the past three years.

It's just_—_

She thought_—_

Closure is meant to be a resolution or whatever, and yet Naya's standing here in her kitchen, the left side of her chest still throbbing dully and head not quite making sense. She's sure closure is meant to feel like some type of achievement, to make her feel something different as to before, but the more she thinks about it, the more she finds she isn't feeling anything. Everything still hurts and the only difference between now and two hours ago is that instead of staring blankly at the TV, she's staring down at the marble counter top and drinking away her sorrows.

Shaking her head, Naya tilts her chin up and straightens, grabbing at the neck of the bottle and discarding her wine glass as there's no need for it now. She brings the rim to her lips and swigs, feeling the wine settle low in her stomach and slur around. It's been a good few hours since she's eaten and she knows by the end of this bottle she'll be on the couch, curled up and sobbing quietly into a pillow as she alcohol drags her into a dream filled sleep; because nowadays her dreams are better than reality.

She's halfway to the living room when the sound of someone hammering on her front door echoes through the house. Setting down her glass on the coffee table, she attempts to rub away the ache at the back of her eyes and heads towards the foyer, hand reaching for the door knob when it comes into reach.

The door's barely a centimeter open when it's pushed fully open and a body comes into the house, swiftly breezing past her and rendering her slightly confused. She twists immediately, fear pulsing through her as the irrational thought that maybe the person is Matt, coming for an explanation and refusing to leave until he gets one_—_because he's just _that _kind of guy_—_but then her eyes focus and then she's staring at Heather, whose eyes are deep and frantic and pissed and her chest is heaving to reflect that.

"You_—_" Heather grits out, clenching her jaw as she looks to the ground. She glances up after taking a deep breath and Naya just stares in disbelief. She doesn't think she's ever seen Heather so _angry _before. "You think I wouldn't tell you, Naya? You think that after everything, _fucking everything, _we've been through, that you wouldn't be the first one I told if Taylor proposed?"

Naya's jaw goes slack and eyes widen. The anger is clear in dark blue eyes, and if this were a comic, there'd be steam blowing out from Heather's ears. But this isn't the time to think about how damn intimidating the blonde girl looks, nor is it the time to stop concentrating on what's going on because Heather looks a millisecond away from imploding with rage.

"Hea_—_" A finger presses against her lips and shuts her up before she can even gets the words out. She's not even entirely sure she knows what she was going to say.

"No, Naya," Heather's voice is low and serious, and her blue eyes are burning into brown ones with so much ferocity that Naya actually feels a miniscule pulse of fear surge through her. "No, it's _my _turn to talk and _your _turn to listen," Heather continues, pulling her finger away when Naya nods weakly, then sucks in her lips and ignoring the way she can taste Heather's skin on them. She straightens up and keeps her voice in a low growl as she says, "Do you honestly think I would let you find out over _Twitter _if I got engaged?"

Naya swallows but remains silent, unwilling her words to respond. Heather shakes her head and laughs in disbelief, turning around to face the staircase. "_God, _Naya. You really don't know me at all, do you?"

Confusion and hurt runs through her, and the burning urge to say _yes I do _runs through her but she can't. There's something stopping her and the words just won't budge; instead just lodge in her throat and make tears brim beneath her eyelids. Her heart is thudding loudly against her ribcage and all she wants to do is close her eyes and hide underneath a blanket, the way she used to when she was a child to keep all the bad things out. Because now she's feeling too much. Too much anger. Too much pain. Too much confusion. Just too much everything.

Heather steps forward, eyes sharp and Naya resists the urge to move backwards, fearing she might turn and bolt down her street. "I _always _wear that ring, Naya," dark eyebrows pull together in confusion. "It's the ring my dad gave me for my eleventh birthday."

"Wha_—_what?" Naya stammers, not quite understanding what's going on.

"It's _not _an engagement ring. Taylor _didn't _propose to me and I _didn't _say yes because I wouldn't say yes," Heather explains in a low voice, her tone softening somewhat. "A year ago, it probably would have been different. I might have said yes and I might have made the wrong decision if he had proposed because I was in a dark place," she steps forward and Naya's eyes drift down to the minimizing space between their bodies before glancing up again, and pointedly ignoring the way her pulse is throbbing in her ears. "I was in a dark place just like you were."

It's like a breath of fresh air to hear it, and Naya feels that tiny spark deep within her that she thinks is hope. Heather _isn't _engaged to Taylor. Heather _isn't _getting married. But now she isn't entirely sure what this means. Everything that she's confessed has been for nothing, now, and Heather knows and there's no way in taking that back.

_Fuck._

"I was confused because you were_—_" Heather stops to gulp and suddenly the anger burning behind her blue eye fades and softens. "Because you were my everything and I had Taylor, and my mom and Ashley and just _everyone _on my back," she waves her hands out and the back of her knuckles brush along the slither of skin showing between Naya's shirt and jeans. Naya flinches immediately, jolting away and widening her eyes as she feels the patch of touched skin tingle. Luckily, Heather seems oblivious to this and continues to speak.

"They were all going on at me and I was scared, Naya. I had to choose and that was without doubt the _hardest__—_" Heather clenches her hands into a fist and squeezes her eyes shut as she says it, "_—_thing I've ever had to do. The _hardest _and you," she points towards Naya and takes a daunting step forward, her eyes burning back with that rage she showed a few moments ago. "You, Naya, just let me walk away and go back to Taylor and didn't even bother _fighting _for me. Why, Naya?" Heather clenches her jaw as blue eyes gloss over. "Why didn't you at least _try _and fight for me?"

In that moment, as the words come out, Naya no longer feels the guilt and panic that surged through her body a few seconds back. No. Instead, she feels a light fury swirl in her stomach and crawl up the back of her throat until she has to bite down the aggressive words threatening to roll off her tongue.

Heather has no fucking right to say that to her, that she didn't _fight _for her. She _couldn't _fight for her. If there was any fucking way she could then she definitely would have at least tried but their situation just didn't allow for it.

After all, how could she fight for someone who was taken? And had been taken for five damn years? Way before she even came into Heather's life.

She just couldn't break something like that. She just couldn't break that rule of morality and by that, she was sticking to doing the right thing. Even if it meant killing her, she decided to sacrifice her happiness just so Heather would be happy.

And then Heather has to go and say that she didn't fight for her? And that she just 'walked away' like it was the easiest thing in the world?

_No_. No fucking way is that fair.

"Are you serious, right now!?" Naya screeches, shocking Heather into silence with her outburst. She takes a step forward until there's barely half a meter between them. "You think I didn't fight for you and that I just walked away without a care?"

Heather remains silent and tilts her chin up defiantly; the tears now falling onto blotching cheeks. A silent _yes._

"God, Heather!" Naya reaches up and fists the hair by her temple tightly, trying to relieve some of the anger. But her heart's still pounding against her chest, to the point where she thinks it might just burst straight out her ribcage "You're so irritating sometimes! Fuck! I _couldn't _fight for you, Heather, and I said it once, and I'll say it again, I'm okay with you and Taylor but that's only because I _had _to be," she punches her chest. "I _had _to be because I want you to be happy, as happy as can fucking be; even if that means sacrificing my own feelings because I care for you that _fucking _much. And that just wouldn't be possible if I didn't let you go."

Tears well up and spill over, trailing a slow path down her cheeks. She tries to wipe them away, but gets caught up in the way Heather's staring at her, with a slack jaw and wide eyes, that she just continues to ramble on.

"So _there, _Heather," she steps forward and pokes the other girl in the chest, where Heather staggers a little and her eyes grow wider. "_That's _why I didn't fight for you," she pants out and feels her shoulders sag when the words run out.

But Heather shakes her head, wordlessly; an unreadable expression crossing her face as her mind processes the words. Opening her mouth to speak, Naya's about to continue in her little rambling but then Heather covers her entire mouth with her hand and that hardness to her eyes are back, along with the clamped down jaw and tightened skin around high cheekbones.

"If you're so fucking okay with me and Taylor," Heather starts, a little breathless from the anger already. "Then why are you _so_damn jealous?"

The hand covering Naya's mouth drops away, and at the same time her jaw runs slack as she tries to think of an explanation. Silence settles between them, the only sound around is the one of birds chirping and cars revving outside Naya's house.

/

They stare at each other for long moments, Heather trying to get a read on Naya and Naya trying desperately to make sure that _doesn't _happen. There's a reason she's jealous and she knows that fucking reason. It's the same one that's kept her from letting Heather go and it's the same one that made it so damn hard for her to accept that there's someone in Heather's life that is definitely the better option.

Her mouth drops open to respond, but she finds a lack of words coming out and shuts it again; fearing that instead of an explanation, something along the lines of _I love you _or _marry me _will spill out instead. Blue eyes roam around her face, the disappointment seeping in and darkening them and all Naya wants to do is tell Heather the truth to push that darkness away. That darkness has been there for too long and even though there's a great guy on the other side of town, waiting for Heather, Naya just wants to give into the selfish urge to kiss her and tell her everything that she's ever thought and felt for her.

Because they both know it's still there. They both know, standing here in Naya's foyer with heaving chest and infuriated eyes that the thing that first attracted them to each other, is still fucking there. And it has been there all along; growing and expanding with time. Some say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but that's not true in their case.

"God, Nay_—_"

Naya doesn't even know she's done until she's pulling away and staring at Heather, wide eyed and scared. Her heart is beating wildly in her ears, and there's a light tingle on her lips that she knows only too well, telling her that she just kissed Heather. She just fucking kissed her and now she doesn't know what to do because Heather's reaching up and touching her own lips like she isn't sure either. Then their eyes lock and Naya screams at herself to say something; to give some sort of explanation as to why the hell she just did that.

"Heather, I_—_"

The words leave her quickly and so does her breath because she doesn't even get to finish her sentence before Heather's stepping towards her and holding her close, their noses clashing together and lips pausing a hairsbreadth away from each other. Then there's a slight movement from one of them and Naya almost implodes as lips brush against hers, soft and too sweet for the intensity of this moment. And she just can't handle that.

So she pushes back, kissing Heather hard until her mouth widens and then they're kissing hot and opened mouthed. Hands clutch at any available piece of clothing and nails dig in through the fabric and into skin as Naya pushes her tongue past Heather's lips and flicks it against the roof of her mouth. A strangled whimper comes from the other woman, and she smirks inwardly before stroking her tongue over Heather's and almost whimpering herself.

But Heather's never been one for backing down, but even so, Naya's still surprised when hands come down to her thighs and hoist until her legs are wrapping around the other woman's waist. She produces a small squeak, their kiss softening dangerously so and Naya hates how emotional she can feel this getting. So she tangles her fingers through blonde hair, gripping tightly and tugging until teeth bite down on her bottom lip and piping hot arousal flows through her.

She needs this. She needs this badly and the moment is so hot and sudden that she doesn't register that they've been moving through the house until she's thrown down onto a bed. Heather climbs over her, knees bracketing her hips and her hands fall to strong thighs as long fingers come down to the hem of her top and whips is straight off her body.

Naya's eyes nearly bulge straight out her head because it's been a _long _time since she's seen Heather like this, and even as her hands glide up long legs to fumble with the button on the blonde's jeans and her mind goes back to all the times they made love during their world wide tour, the image of Heather panting and half naked above her still manages to rip the breath straight from her chest.

Hands cup at her cheeks and she doesn't take her eyes off the line running down Heather's stomach until a mouth presses over hers and kisses her _hard. _She's never felt a kiss with so much emotion in it before, and she almost pushes the blonde girl off her lap and runs out right then and there. But it seems her body has different ideas because her hands are travelling down the smooth expanse of Heather's back, down to her ass where they grip and pull their hips together, starting a rocking motion that makes heat spread across her skin.

This is all too much for her. All the kissing and the touching. It's been too long without Heather and now it's all here, suddenly, and it's catching her off guard. She feels herself crying, and she's unable to stop the tears from flowing as she flips their bodies, settling in between Heather's thighs and grabbing at her hands to push them up beside her head.

There's a burning feeling in the pit of her stomach and she knows it's the anger and pain she's endured, brimming to the top and seeping over the sides. She can feel it and she knows Heather can see it in her because there's a gloss covering blue eyes and a sad smile gracing pink lips.

Naya can't take it though.

So she crashes their mouths back together, slowly releasing their hands and sliding it down the bed to hook her thumbs into Heather's jeans and panties. She pushes them down, a little harder then necessary and growls when they catch against her own legs. Shuffling out, she shifts and sits up, lifting Heather's legs so she can slide the jeans off and then presses down; fully aware that she still has far too much clothing on and that Heather's not fighting back.

A small whimper comes from the blonde girl beneath her at a particular press of Naya's hips, and she clenches her eyes as she closes the space between them and kisses Heather roughly, teeth biting against lips until she's sure blood could flow.

Everything hurts, and there's so many reasons why they shouldn't be doing this; but she just can't seem to get a grip on them. It's like they keep slipping out her hands and even though she's desperately trying to find some grounding to stop this_—_because ultimately it _will _destroy her_—_it's just not happening.

Heather's hands come up to her shirt, tugging it off and then slipping back down to her shorts. With practiced ease, fingers slip beneath the fabric and grab a hold of both pieces of fabric and urge them down her legs. She barely even has to shuffle, and instead focuses on the way Heather's tongue is flicking against the roof of her mouth and how she can feel the wetness dripping out her eyes.

This is _such _a bad idea.

But she just can't stop herself.

Naya's mouth slips, and then she's moving down the long slope of Heather's neck, sucking, licking and biting as the blonde girl arches into her, desperate for more contact. And Naya's never been able to refuse her.

She splays her hand across Heather's chest, feeling her heart pound beneath her palm and pushes up onto her knees, releasing the skin of a pale neck with a slight 'pop'. And then Heather's staring at her with wide, panicked eyes and she just looks so fucking gorgeous it kills Naya. Blonde hair is spread across the white of the pillow, in an arc that makes Heather look like a damn angel and her skin is pale and glowing and _fuck, _Naya doesn't think she's ever going to fall out of love with this girl.

Ever since their first meeting Naya's had this _thing. _This thing inside of her that can't quite seem to let Heather go, no matter how hard she tries. She thought that maybe distance and time would help. That somehow distance and time would allow this thing to close up and heal, but it never has. It's only grown and Naya doesn't quite know how she got herself into this situation. She never meant to fall in love with Heather. She never even _wanted _to. It just happened before she could stop it and she's been falling ever since.

Naya opens her mouth, wanting to say _something _because now they're just staring at each other, but Heather catches her before she can say it.

"Don't," the blonde girl whispers, almost helplessly. "Please."

So Naya doesn't.

Instead, she nods, breathes in deeply and leans back down again, pushing her hips forward as one hand trails down Heather's ribs. Tongues brush and caress, and as Naya pulls Heather closer, she realizes how she never wants anyone else to touch Heather the way she's touching her. She never wants anyone else to ever get their hands on this woman again because _she _wants her. She wants this: Heather beneath her, holding her cheeks between her hands and kissing her with an understanding patience that's both beautiful and horribly maddening. She wants this all day, everyday, yet she knows she'll never have it.

That thought leads to another jolt of frustration, and Naya grunts, the tears beginning to fall again as she pushes a thigh between two other strong ones and pushes up; earning a sound that _she _only wants to be able to hear.

She closes her eyes and pulls back from the kiss when her hand finds its way between Heather's legs, readying herself for a sight she knows will be printed in the back of her eyelids for months to come. Blue eyes lock with hers, and she props herself up with her free arm and just gazes at the other woman as she slides her fingers through wet heat and then presses in, pushing into Heather with two and watching as the blonde snaps her head back against the pillows and moans at the intrusion.

It's quite possibly one of the most beautiful sights Naya's ever seen.

Heather inhales sharply, eyes snapping shut and brow furrowing when Naya begins to move her fingers, curling at the right spot and letting her thumb wander further north. She brushes haphazardly over the most sensitive part of the blonde and uses the thigh between Heather's leg to push deeper and harder, letting her emotions sink into her actions.

This gets Heather's attention and she opens her eyes, gazing into Naya's with an understanding that she's only ever been able to get a grasp on. And it hurts. It really fucking hurts because even now, two fingers knuckle deep inside Heather, Naya can't seem to understand why they aren't meant to be together. Fate brought them here. There were so many things that could have kept them apart but they didn't and ever since their meeting they've only been getting closer, emotionally and physically.

And not only does it hurt, but it really fucking pisses her off. Pisses her off because she knows she could treat Heather better than anyone else could if she was just given the damn chance. If the world didn't look down upon her and judge her for every little fucking thing she did, maybe she and Heather could make it. Maybe they could be something. Maybe they could be in love in peace.

She presses her forehead tightly against Heather's shoulder, unable to keep the eye contact whilst these thoughts are running through her mind. She works her fingers a little faster and harder, listening to the pants and moans being whispered in her ear and focuses on this one thing. The only thing she can give Heather right now and the only thing she can give herself.

"Nay_—_Naya..." Heather pants, pushing her hips up as Naya brings her thumb up to brush across her clit and presses her lips against the long slope of Brittany's neck. It only takes a few more seconds but then Heather's hand comes to the nape of her neck and tugs to press their mouths together, kissing her as her body stiffens with the power of her orgasm.

Another long moment later, Heather sinks back to the bed, kissing Naya lazily and with slow precision and it fucking _kills _her. It hurts so damn much that she's sure her heart could crumble into a million tiny pathetic pieces inside of her chest and if she weren't sobbing already, she definitely would be by now.

She pulls back when she feels wetness trail over her hand, and realizes that she's not the only one crying. It's a pleasurable type of pain and she manages to smile through it, before leaning down and bringing their lips back together in a kiss that shouldn't be this tender.

But before she can dwell on that thought and turn the waterworks on high, Heather flips them over and kisses her way down her body, hands coming up to grab at Naya's and holding firmly against tanned hips as she works her mouth against her with an accuracy that shouldn't exist.

/

A few hours later and Naya wakes, body sore in the best way possible but heart sore in the worst.

She turns her head, and shifts before she realizes Heather's behind her, arm wrapped around her waist and holding her close. Her heart skips a beat and throbs unevenly and it feels so good but so bad at the same time that she doesn't quite know what to do with herself. On one hand, she just wants to lie here, basking in the only few moments of Heather she has, but on the other she wants nothing more than to be out the door, tripping over her shoes as she skips down the hall attempting to put them on as she makes her escape.

Which is exactly what she does.

/

Naya's used to being out in LA in the early hours of the morning.

She's used to the birds chirping and the few postal service trucks driving at 10mph on the side of the road. She's used to watching the coffee shop owners arrive outside their shops and rub a hand over their eyes as they silently question why the hell they're awake this early. She's used to it all.

But she's not used to feeling like this whilst she sees all of that.

There's this deep pit within her, deeper than she's known before and it's like it's sucking her soul out. She knows last night was a one time thing. But she thinks it's that that's making her feel like this. Taylor's still there. Taylor's still Heather's boyfriend and they _still _live together.

Last night hasn't changed any of that, no matter how she felt or how Heather made her feel during their hours of intimacy.

/

The rest of the summer goes by quickly.

Naya puts her mind into her album and forgets that she ever really had a heart. It hurts less that way.

Soon enough, it comes to the time where she, along with the rest of the cast, have to go back to Paramount Studios and begin filming for season four.

The season four photo shoot comes first, and it's horrible how Naya feels when she's driving into Paramount, parking her car and climbing out, knowing that Heather's soon going to be breathing the same air she is. It's like her heart's about to jump up her throat and her stomach's about to sink through her ass, and she can't quite get a hold of any of her emotions.

For fuck sake, that last time she saw Heather, she was crawling back up Naya's body and Naya was groaning at the taste of herself in Heather's mouth. _Fuck. _How is she going to face her? And the worst part is, none of the other cast knows anything about what happened and so in her current state, they'll know something's wrong immediately and undoubtedly throw questions at her.

She really doesn't want to be here today.

Kevin's the first person she sees. He's already wearing Artie's clothes, but he's standing next to Harry and laughing about something. His head turns as soon as she walks through the door, and he hurries over to her and pulls her into a tight hug.

"I missed you, Bee!"

Naya smiles lightly into his shoulder and remembers it's been at least two months since she's seen him. Talked to him, even. "Hey, little Bee. I missed you too."

There must be something in her voice that catches his attention, because Kevin pulls back and holds her by the biceps, staring at her like he's trying to figure out what's wrong. "Are you okay?" He asks slowly.

"I'm fine," she replies a little too quickly, and forces the fakest of smiles on her face. She doesn't even know why she's trying to hide how she really feels. Everything will be known by most people by the end of the day anyway. She drops the smile from her face and sucks in her lips, throat tightening as he chuckles dry and tells her that he knows she's lying. "No, Bee. I'm not okay," she says and swallows thickly.

Kevin peers over his shoulder, and sees Jenna and Amber walk in from the other exit before he slides his hand down Naya's forearm and holds hers, tugging her quickly outside and round the corner. Just in time too, because she's already falling into him and burying her sobs into the itchy sweater covering his torso.

"Whoa, Naya," he says and hugs her closely for a second before pushing her back to look at her face. "What happened?"

With no-one around, and the weight of past events just getting too heavy on her chest, the truth just pours out of Naya and she recites the entire story to Kevin.

/

Naya's grabbing a cup of coffee when she hears a laugh that makes her blood freeze.

She doesn't move, just stares straight ahead and gulps, and only seconds later, Lea's next to her, setting a comforting hand on the lower half of her back, steering her away from the snack table and towards wardrobe where she's thrown into Santana's clothes.

The next stop is make-up and Naya just takes everything as it comes, expecting to run into Heather sooner or later, but it just turns out that whenever Heather's near, someone _conveniently _arrives by her side and pushes her in the _opposite _direction.

She's relieved, but at the same time kind of pissed. No-one knew about what happened between her and Heather and now they must know _something _because otherwise they wouldn't be doing their best to keep them away from each other.

Naya doesn't dwell on it too much, though, just smiles gratefully at the person holding her shoulder, or bicep and lets herself be lead away.

/

The shoot doesn't go as badly as she thought.

Which is weird, because for the promo shoot for all the previous seasons, she and Heather have been glued together, asked to hold pinkies, laughed with each other and even tied to each other with freaking toilet paper. They've never been apart and Naya hates the way Santana and Brittany's positioning for this shoot are paying an fine resemblance to her and Heather's status at the moment. Very much apart.

Her body decides to take over for a while, and she finds herself just going through the motions, the poses, the smiles and positions with no problem whatsoever. For that she's grateful, because there's got to be one part of her that's focused on her priorities like work and life right now, rather than that dull, aching space in the left part of her chest. She wouldn't be much use if neither her mind nor body were working, so she just sends a thanks to the heavens and lets her body get on with it.

/

Everyone's heading home at the end of the shoot, and Naya's standing with Cory and Lea who are bumping their hands together and just generally look like they're sickeningly in love, and she figures that coming to stand with them probably wasn't the best idea.

They're the people she wishes she and Heather were. They didn't have any difficulties with getting together; they just did. On the show, Finn and Rachel seemed to grow apart and that was basically the heads up for _do what you want _and so they did. They grew a little closer, and soon enough the paparazzi were snapping pictures of them at an ice hockey match and out on the street, looking more comfortable than ever. And Naya envies them for it.

But she can't hate them, and so she just smiles and tells them she's got to be heading off soon; choosing not to tell them that actually, the sight of them being so head over heels in love with each other is making her want to cry and break down, and they just bid her farewell and she leaves.

/

She's changed, she's taken the thousands of layers of make-up off and she's heading outside when she runs into Heather.

Heather's waiting for her, leaning against her white Range Rover with her chin against her chest and her arms crossed over her body. And Naya just stops. Stops in the middle of the parking lot and stares, her presence oblivious to the other woman.

All the fibers inside her body tell her to just ignore Heather. To push past her, open the car door and climb in, locking it behind her before Heather can climb in after her. But there's those fibers in her brain, telling her she needs to talk to Heather because soon enough they're going to be hiding behind the cover of Santana and Brittany and hugging, and kissing, and Naya's not sure she can do that without closure. Or something resembling closure, anyway.

Heather lifts her head when Naya resumes walking, the sound of her boots unmistakeable to Heather's ears, and she takes in a deep breath before clicking her key fob and opening her car door. Remarkably enough, she's halfway into the car, steadying herself with her left hand on the door handle when a pale hand snatches out and grabs it, catching her attention simultaneously.

It burns, like Naya just touched an open flame and she rips her hand out of Heather's grasp, only for Heather to keep a firm hold of it because she's always been a little stronger than Naya.

"What?" Naya spits, her voice is sharp and harsh and eyes narrowed.

"Why didn't you tell me you broke up with Matt?"

Her head jerks back so fast she almost hits it on the edge of the door. But Heather's there_—_she always is_—_cradling the back of her skull and pulling her down gently until she's settled in the seat of her car, legs dangling off the edge and hanging out of it. Naya clamps her jaw, unwilling her words to say anything other than _it's none of your business _or _why do you care? _and just continues to stare at the blonde.

"Well?" Heather says, a little demanding and boy, she doesn't have the right to ask anything of Naya.

Naya pulls her hand back, this time succeeding, and rubs both hands over her face, trying desperately not to give into the frustration within. "I didn't think it'd matter because you have Taylor," she tells her, honestly, already reaching for the handle and closing the door.

Heather just stands outside, a puppy dog eyed expression on her face and Naya can't handle it, so she shifts the car into drive and pulls out her parking space.

/

Filming comes next, and Naya's sort of thankful that Santana isn't in the first episode.

Instead, she gets a call from her record label telling her that it'd be good to start filming the music video in the next few weeks.

(One of the things she put her head into during the end of the Summer was her album, and she'd managed to head to a studio to record her debut single _My Heart _and now it's time for the video to follow. That way she can release it and get on with her other projects outside of Glee.)

So she does as she's told and soon enough she's there, on set for her music video, sitting in a chair, surrounded by thousands of bags of make-up and about four hours away from beginning the video. It's exciting, but at the same time there's this thing tugging in the pit of her stomach, telling her how much better it'd be if someone was beside her, someone with a wide toothy grin and sparkling blue eyes that would just _beam _excitement.

But there isn't, and so she just has to focus on what's going on now instead of the past. It's a lot easier that way.

/

She looks _fierce._

Like, _The Troubletones _type fierce.

She's got a black, skin tight latex bodysuit on, her hair is _everywhere _and her make-up is insane. Even she has to admit she looks hot, and she smiles to herself at a certain conversation she had once with Kevin about how hot she'd look if she went to Comic-Con dressed as Catwoman. Kevin was right, she would look hot.

Anyway, people are rushing around and there's someone with their hand hovering over her back, ushering her towards set where a black, leather chair is sitting directly in the middle.

Someone calls out five minutes till filming, and then everything happens so quickly she's not sure what's going on. There's a choreographer standing on the side, stroking his chin and talking to some other guy, and Naya's waiting for someone to run her through the steps one last time because she's not exactly a professional at dancing.

But no-one does, and instead she just sits there, remembering all the times she had to do a big number on Glee, and there was one person always waiting for her five minutes before filming, showing her the steps and guiding her through each one.

Not this time though, and it takes thirty one takes to get the first half of the video done.

/

Her feet ache, her limbs are sore and her voice is hoarse after shooting for the entire day.

But it's done, and she breathes a sigh of relief, high five-ing a few of the backing dancers who helped her through the steps since she was struggling.

They were helpful, sure, but they weren't as good as Heather.

And it hits Naya that no-one ever will be.

/

The next time she heads into set, it's to film a scene with Heather.

It's a _Brittana _scene, and it's for the Britney tribute episode where Naya has to walk around the Louisville Library set_—_which is just McKinley's library reincarnated_—_whilst the camera flicks back and forth between Heather, who's crying face down on the bed whilst singing Britney Spears' _Everytime._

Naya gets incredibly emotional, because to film her part, she has to have the song playing overhead to set the emotion, and the lyrics hit a little too close to home for her.

Anyway, she takes in a deep breath and clutches her Louisville folders close to her chest, which is covered in the Cards cheerleading outfit uniform, and gets herself into 'Santana mode', which is so much easier than she thought because at that moment Santana's sad and Naya is too. Easy as.

The song begins to play overhead, someone yells 'take one' and then she's off.

_Notice me_  
_Take my hand_  
_Why are we_  
_Strangers when_  
_Our love was strong_  
_Why carry on without me?_

Naya sucks in her lips and shuts her eyes when shoulders bump into her own. She's supposed to be conveying Santana's state of loneliness, and judging by Brad's face, she's working it because his hand presses to his chest and his head tilts sympathetically.

_Everytime I try to fly I fall_  
_Without my wings_  
_I feel so small_  
_I guess I need you baby_

Tears pool in her eyes and she holds back the sob, whilst dodging the chairs in the library and finally setting her folder down at a table at the back. She sits down on her own and closes her eyes, trying not to look at the other tables full of people chatting and couples kissing. It's just too hard.

"CUT!"

Naya lifts her head, wiping away the tears hastily and takes in a deep breath. Brad comes over and claps her on the shoulder gently, smiling down at her and she does the same back, just a little weaker.

"The next scene is in Brittany's room," he murmurs and she doesn't know why he's saying it. She's read the script and knows what's coming. "But there's been a little change."

And Naya's face drops.

/

Turns out, the little change? Isn't so little.

Instead of Heather lying face down on the bed, then curling up into a fetal position and crying through the lyrics, she's now just lying on her side, hand underneath her head and legs slightly bent, leaving room on the other side of the bed for an entire person to lie there. Leaving enough room on the other side of the bed for Naya to lie there.

She walks onto the set, still wearing her Cards uniform and hovers on the outskirts of Brittany's bed, unsure what to do. Heather isn't here yet and Naya isn't sure whether she wants her to not come at all.

Of course, she does come, and she's not wearing her Cheerios uniform which instantly captures Naya's eye. This must be after Brittany's kicked off the Cheerios, and Naya nods along, catching up with the script in her mind. She only briefly scanned over it, fearing there'd be a kiss someone along the line. Just being in close proximity of Heather was hard enough, and if she had to press their lips together, it'd probably just about kill her.

"Hi," Heather whispers meekly.

Naya curls her lips up at the corner. "Hi," she murmurs back.

Heather's mouth drops open to say something more but then Brad calls '_get into positions' _and suddenly they're ducking back underneath the covers of Santana and Brittany, hiding everything they feel for each other.

/

Heather's lying on the bed, on her side and knees pulled up slightly. _Everytime _is playing overhead and tears fall from her eyes as she mouths along to them.

_And everytime I see_  
_You in my dreams_  
_I see your face_  
_It's haunting me_  
_I guess I need you baby_

And just as it says on script, Heather sits up as Brittany, hearing the door to her bedroom crack open. Her lips are still forming the words of the song overhead, but instead of her being alone, suddenly Naya's there, dressed as Santana in her Cards cheerleading uniform and leaning against the door frame. Her eyes soften as she looks towards Heather, and Naya gets this overwhelming urge just to defer from the script and dive onto the bed, hugging Heather with everything she has and telling her how much she needs her.

But it's not Heather telling her that she needs her, it's Brittany telling Santana through song.

As directed, Naya walks in and heads over to the bed, taking the left side and perching on it. Heather stares at her longingly, and they don't speak as Naya reaches for her hand and pulls them both down onto the bed, where their legs brush and they're staring at each other, faces a good ten inches apart.

_I make believe_  
_That you are here_  
_It's the only way_  
_I see clear_

With the lyrics coming from Heather's mouth, Naya feels the weight of the words pressing down on her. It's stupid, and she knows it is because this is a scene between Brittany and Santana, not Heather and Naya, and yet it feels so far from being scripted that she's almost at the point where she wants to grab the script and make sure this is happening.

_What have I done?_  
_You seem to move on easy_

Tears pour from Heather's eyes, and Naya instinctively moves closer, reaching up to wipe away the wetness on pale cheeks. She wants to tell her not to cry, but she has to keep reminding herself that this is a scene. This isn't real life and it never will be.

_Everytime I try to fly I fall_  
_Without my wings_  
_I feel so small_  
_I guess I need you baby_

Heather's hand comes up and Naya knows it's Brittany stroking over Santana's face. But blue eyes roam around her face, tracing every inch of her and that's not Brittany. That's Heather. Naya's breath catches in her throat and she blinks back the tears stinging her eyes, but she can't seem to tear her gaze away from those damn blue eyes. They're pulling her in and she was always sure they were oceans, but this time it doesn't feel like she's drowning in them. It feels like she's floating and it's uncomfortable because for so long she's been used to the hurt and pain they brought her.

_And everytime I see_  
_Your in my dreams_  
_I see your face_  
_Your haunting me_  
_I guess I need you baby_

The hand on her face drifts down, fingertips skimming along the edge of her jaw and Naya's eyes are fixed on the way every word passes through pink lips, and how the lyrics are being spoken to her through Heather, and not Brittany. She knows she should be keeping her mind in the scene and not on the link between the song and her real life, but she can't. It's just too strong and the tears falling from her eyes aren't from the years of training she's had as an actress, they're from her heart. Her soul. Her love for Heather.

And she knows that the newest script says this is where the camera does a 360 spin of Brittany's room, and that when it lands back on Brittany, she should be alone and it should be revealed that Santana being there was just wishful thinking. A dream, perhaps. Naya knows this right here, with Brad waving at her from the sidelines to get up because the camera is panning to the right and beginning the 360, that she should be rolling off the bed and getting out of view.

But she never gets that far.

_I may have made it rain_  
_Please forgive me_

Heather shifts closer and she's so close now that Naya can hear her heart pounding against her chest. Can hear the way she swallows and can see the tears form at the very corners of her eyes. They're so close that Naya can count every single freckle on Heather's face and see the emotions flashing behind blue eyes. She can see every tiny little thing and even though there's a large part of her mind telling her to get away. To get up and just run away now before she can get hurt again... But she can't. Instead she's just lying there, frozen.

_My weakness caused you pain_  
_And this song's my sorry_

Piano music sounds through the air, and she doesn't know how she got to this moment, because she was sure she was done with all of this. She was sure that her heart couldn't take anymore and she'd promised herself she'd never risk herself again because it was just too risky. Yet here she is, and one of them is nudging forward until their noses brush, and then one of them is moving just that tiny bit lower and then their lips are brushing over each other.

They're kissing, and Naya wants to pull back and push Heather away, but her body has other ideas and instead she's shifting and pressing into the kiss a little harder, shifting until Heather's bottom lip slips between hers and she's kissing back with everything she has. It's slow, and perfect, and Heather tastes like everything that happens between them, the tears, the hurt, the broken promises. But the strongest taste on her lips is the one that's so sweet and so perfect, that Naya lets out a sigh against her lips, knowing exactly what Heather's trying to tell her.

That's when Naya whimpers, and she becomes aware that they're both crying as her hand moves to frame Heather's jaw. A hand comes up to her cheek, and she squeezes her eyes shut when Heather switches the kiss and deepens it, flicking her tongue against Naya's lip. And Naya's always been powerless to Heather, and when she parts her lips, Heather's tongue slides into her mouth and over her own tongue. Her heart skips an unhealthy amount of beats but it's still throbbing against her ribcage, and that's the only thing that tells her she's still alive.

The kiss is lazy, and she moves her hands to grasp at Heather's waist, holding onto something and wishing it would ground her or kick some sense into her because this wasn't good idea last time, and it still isn't now. But it just feels so good. It feels so right and she just can't fight it, no matter how far much her brain is screaming for her to leave.

And then the need to breathe becomes too much and Naya pulls back as much as she can, with the hand on her cheek anchoring her in place, and tips their foreheads together, breathing hard and heavy against Heather's mouth. Their eyes lock again and they just stare at each other, asking questions neither know how to answer.

But then with the silence, and with the lack of answers coming from either of them, it becomes increasingly clear that the song has stopped. That the cameras have stopped rolling and that everyone has gathered around and is now staring at this scene with wide eyes and slack jaws.

And Naya's heart just about stops beating.

"Uh, ladies," Brad coughs and breaks the silence, but there's still that eery ringing sound in the air. "That wasn't scripted."

Naya's eyes tear up again, and for a moment, for a long moment, she thinks that maybe Heather wasn't kissing her. That maybe Brittany was kissing Santana and Heather thought it was a good idea to through it into the scene. But then Heather clears her throat – her voice is always a little raspy after kissing – and she answers Brad but her eyes are still entirely focused on Naya.

"I know, but that wasn't Brittany kissing Santana."

The words hit Naya so hard that it makes her body jolt and muscles tense. She needs to get out of here. She can't have Heather saying stuff like that whilst both of them are still in the same position as they were the last time this happened. Nothing's changed since then. Heather's still with Taylor and Naya's still hopelessly in love with someone she can't have.

Throwing her legs over the edge of the bed, Naya pushes up from the mattress and hastily heads off set, holding her forehead and trying not to think about how stupid she was. Heather fucking kissed her. _Again. _And it's still not going to form into anything more than what is what.

_God. _She's so stupid.

"Naya, stop!" Heather calls and Naya only does so because a hand clutches her wrist, yanking her back into the set of Brittany's bedroom. "Stop running away from me."

Naya doesn't turn around, just keeps her voice low and says, "Let me go, Heather."

What she doesn't expect is to hear Heather whimper from behind her, and then murmur, "I can't. I can't let you go," through the tears falling from her eyes.

It makes her spin around, and she glances down at the hand still around her wrist, thinking it's the only tether between them. People in love, people who are meant to be and who are brought together by fate are supposed to have an emotional tether. A thread of some sort. Like the Chinese legend about the invisible red string that ties two people together. That little red string means that those two people are destined to meet in a certain situation. They're _meant _to be in each others lives and regardless of time, place or circumstance, or whether the string stretches or tangle, they're _meant _to be lovers because they're destined for each other.

And years ago, Naya thought that was her and Heather. She thought that God had laid and hand and fate brought them together. She thought they were supposed to meet, because there were so many opportunities for both of them where life could've gone a different way, and that could've meant they wouldn't have met, but life _did _go that way. They _did _meet and they clicked in a way that Naya's never known before.

But now? Now it seem all that's holding them together is the grip Heather has around her wrist.

And that makes her come to the conclusion that Heather needs to let her go. Heather needs to because if she doesn't, neither of them will ever be content with their lives. They may never be happy, but that's fine because there's plenty of people who are never completely happy with their lives; they're content and that's fine. Naya could settle with that because at least it's a step up from what she would have if Heather didn't let her go.

"Heather," she's breathless as her eyes dart between each of Heather's. "You have to let me go. Please. Just let me go," she whispers and her vision blurs with the tears that form.

"I can't," Heather's voice breaks and she steps closer, still not releasing Naya's wrist. "I can't let you go. I wo_—_won't. I'm not g_—_going to." Her eyes roam around Naya's face, and Naya sucks in a sharp, shaky breath, feeling her heart pick up it's pulse. She's sure it's going to burst from her chest. "You'll just run away again and I can't watch you go."

"I'm not running awa_—_"

"Yes, you are," Heather's voice is harder now. Angrier. "You ran away at the coffee shop. You ran away after we..." her voice trails off and eyes drift down. Naya interprets the rest and swallows as memories of Heather's hands running over her body flash through her mind.

"And you ran away when I tried to talk to you at your car. So _stop,"_ she tugs on Naya's wrist and brings their bodies within four inches of each other, whilst her eyes gaze down from the small height gap. "Stop running away from me and just _talk _to me."

Naya lifts her chin and inhales deeply, teeth clamping together and brows furrowing. "I don't have anything to say anymore. I've said it all."

Despite the words, Heather isn't convinced. Her eyes narrow and nostrils flare, and Naya can see the anger flashing across her features as her eyebrow twitches once, twice. It always used to be cute, and Naya remembers all the time she'd rock onto the balls of her feet and press her lips against the skin, feeling it jolt beneath her lips.

"Then why are you running away from me?"

Naya takes this moment to glance around, to see the faces of Kevin, of Lea, of Cory and Mark staring at them with this worry etched on their faces. The only thing she can relate it to it how people watch romance or horror movies. At the very end when the climax is revealed, they just stare, unsure of what's going to happen next and Naya feels it deep in her chest; because all those times she thought were the very end of her and Heather's relationship were really just twists in their movie. Things that put roadblocks in their journey, but now _this _is the end.

Turning her attention back to Heather, Naya's bottom lip quivers and she sucks it into her mouth, hoping that'll stop the flow of tears that usually follows.

"I just want you to be happy," she tells her. "And you are." She swallows thickly and runs her tongue along the back of her teeth. "You are happy with Taylor. And that's all I've ever wanted for you. To be happy."

Heather stares at her for long moments. It could be seconds or minutes, she doesn't know. All she does know is that when Heather's eyes drop, so does her hand. Her hand, the fingers that were clutched tightly around Naya's wrist, holding the last pieces of them together, drops and it punches Naya in the stomach. It punches her hard because even though Heather's not speaking, she's just said a thousand words, including the ones _I'm letting you go, now._

And Naya can't quite believe this moment is actually happening. Heather's letting her go.

"I am ha_—_happy," Heather stutters and Naya's heart crumbles and cracks. It's everything she thought but hearing it confirmed is so much worse than just thinking it was true.

She nods firmly, ignoring everyone around her and wonders how she's going to get through the rest of this year without breaking down completely now that Heather's let her go. It's what she needed, but it's not what she wanted. Can't always get what you want though, can you? Holding onto that thought, and with her chest feeling like an 18-wheeler is pressing down on it, Naya sucks in a whimper, keeps her head down and begins to walk off set.

But not before Heather's voice calls her back. "When I'm with you."

It makes her freeze, and she can feel her facial muscles ache from where her eyebrows have been pushing together for so long, but it's nothing compared to the emotion within her chest. It's unsure, but it's fluttering and she doesn't want to focus on how it's making her feel a little bit lighter because high hopes always leads to disappointment. She needs a confirmation.

"What?" She asks, paused in her step and head twisted to look over her shoulder at Heather.

Heather steps closer, almost pressing against Naya completely. "I'm happiest when I'm with you."

There's a few sighs coming from the audience around them, but Naya still can't focus on anything but Heather because she needs the words to come out. She needs to hear _it _because there's that damn spark of hope inside of her, and never before has it erupted into a burst of flames. Heather's always managed to throw a bucket of water over it before it could ever do that.

"But what about Tay_—_"

"I _said,_" Heather emphasizes and pinches Naya's chin gently between her fingers. "That I'm happiest with you," her eyes convey nothing but sincerity as they dart between Naya's, and the weight that was on Naya's chest lifts off and suddenly it's like she's flying. "I always have been."

The overwhelming excitement that bursts and pool inside of Naya is so much that she thinks she might start vomiting rainbows. Her vision wavers for a second and she thinks that maybe this is a dream. That maybe she's going to wake up, still crying and fawning over someone that she can't have, and still have to watch Heather in all her beauty and glory whilst her own heart breaks and falters further with every second that passes.

But it's not, and Heather leans down slightly to tilt their foreheads together to break her from her thoughts. Naya smiles up at her, unable to hide it and blushes a little. This is actually happening. Heather loves her back.

How is this real?

"Guess you kind of like me, then," she says, glancing up through her lashes and failing to hide her smile.

Heather shakes her head and Naya pulls back a little, but is stopped by a hand sliding up her back and wrapping around the back of her neck. "No," she whispers, minimizing the space between their mouths until the mutters the next words into Naya's lips, "I kind of love you."

And as their lips come together, and Naya's fingers clench in Heather's clothes by her collarbone, her heart explodes and she knows that this is where she's meant to be.

Maybe Chinese legend is right, then.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Even The Sun Sets In Paradise [3/3]  
******People**: Heather Morris, Naya Rivera, Dianna Agron, Kevin McHale, side minor Taylor Hubbell, Matt Hodgson  
**Rating:** Hard R  
**Length: **2.3k

/

"So, Naya," Ellen shifts in her seat and crosses one leg over the other. "You've released your album, now it's at the top of the iTunes charts. Big stuff."

Naya nods and smiles, smoothing her hands along the top of the sofa cushions beside her. It's been four months since season four started airing and things have been great. Since switching her management company to Rocket Music, Elton John's management company, her PR has loosened up a lot. Elton made sure three of her singles of the album already recorded had videos, and despite him not really liking the genre of the album and telling Naya that her voice had so much potential, he made it work.

And after her second video, she got a call from Ellen asking her to come on the show. With her previous PR and management, that wasn't possible. They were always too worried about what it would look like if she went on a show and was bombarded with straight forward questions, because Ellen always did that. But when she got the request, Naya rang her agent and he said to go for it.

Except it came to light that Heather would be away in Arizona with her family, and so Naya was going to be attending the show on her own. It's not like it was that big of a deal, because no-one apart from the crew and cast at Glee knew, but Naya still wanted Heather to be there for her first big interview and talk show.

/

"_You really can't come?" Naya whined from the bed, throwing herself back onto the mattress with her legs dangling off the foot of it._

_They were at Naya's house, which was basically Heather's house too now, and Heather had just told her that she had to go to a family thing in Arizona that weekend. Which consequentially meant that she wouldn't be able to go watch Naya behind the scenes on The Ellen Show. That sucked, big time._

_Heather came over to her, throwing both thighs either side of Naya's hips and straddling her, sitting up. "No, baby," she said, pouting a little and tracing her fingers over the exposed skin of Naya's collarbones. "I really wish I could."_

_Naya frowned and resisted the urge to stroke her hands up and down her girlfriend's thighs, instead crossed them angrily over her chest. Heather, however, just grinned down and her and pressed both palms either side of Naya's head, whilst leaning her whole body down._

"_Honey, I said I was sorry," she whispered, nudging her nose against Naya's._

_But she stayed insistent, turning her head and pressing her cheek into the comforter._

"_Are you mad at me?" Heather whispered, lips brushing over the skin of Naya's cheekbone. "Baby?"_

_She tried. She really freaking tried but when Heather's hands began to slowly unbutton her shirt, and when her lips ghosted over the corner of her mouth, it was just too hard not to give in and smile. The childish huff was never really going to work, anyway._

_The grin she was hiding broke across her face, tugging the corners of her lips high and making her teeth show through the toothy smile. She began to giggle and scrunch her nose as Heather began nuzzling down her neck, brushing her lips over her pulse point and smiling into the skin. It really was hard to stay mad at Heather, and even though she wasn't really mad, she was upset and that was kind of the same thing._

_But priorities were priorities and Naya understood that._

"_Okay, okay," she giggled, reaching up to set her hands on Heather's back as fingers unbuttoned the final button of her shirt roamed over the smooth skin of her abs. "I'm not mad."_

_Heather pulled back, a childish grin on her face. "You're not mad?" She asked, lips only a hairsbreadth away from Naya's._

_Naya shook her head and an embarrassingly loud moan escaped her lips because Heather wriggled and unconsciously pressed her hips down into hers. Blue eyes darkened instantaneously, and Naya's eyebrows shot up to her hairline as the fingers on her stomach began to sink a little lower, the tips of them dipping beneath the waistband of her sweatpants and along hot skin. She gasped and groaned, feeling warmth pool low in her belly and thighs pinch together. Heather never failed to get her hot in a stupidly short amount of time._

"_Baby," she moaned and slipped her hands underneath Heather's shirt, grazing her nails across the skin of Heather's lower back._

"_Say you're not mad," Heather demanded, pressing her hips down intermittently and teasing her lips over Naya's. "Say it."_

_Arousal shot through Naya and she smirked a second before pushing up with her hips, causing a moan to spill from Heather's lips at the same time she flipped them in one fluid motion, and settled between strong thighs whilst their mouths came together in a hard, deep kiss. One that was all tongues and teeth and want. They had sworn to not delve into the bedroom until they both felt emotionally ready, and it seemed that the moment had come._

_Breaking the kiss, Naya leaned back, propping herself up with one elbow whilst the other hand came up to brush across Heather's forehead and her flushed cheeks. "I'm not mad and I love you," she whispered, her voice a little raspy._

_Heather grinned up at her, tugging her by the shoulders down until they molded together, and only a moment later her hand slipped between their bodies, dipping beneath the waistband of Naya's sweatpants and slipping through hot flesh. Naya groaned, Heather moaned, and they spent the entire night wrapped up in each other._

_That didn't make up for the fact Heather wasn't coming to watch her on The Ellen Show, but damn, it was incredibly close._

_/_

"Yeah... It's... It's crazy," she scrunches up her nose and lifts a shoulder. "I never thought it would actually happen, you know?"

Ellen smiles and folds her hands over her lap. "Yep. You're a superstar now."

Naya chuckles and rests both hands on her kneecaps. "I wouldn't say I'm a superstar," she replies, a little flushed. Can ethnic people even do that? "But releasing my album is the second best thing that's ever happened to me. It's amazing."

"And your plans are to make a second one sometime?"

"Yeah, I mean I'm going to continue with my acting career with Glee but then I'll see where it goes. Elton told me he'd like me to write another album, but add an Adele-esque theme to it."

"That would definitely work with your voice," Ellen replies and smiles. "But wait, you said your album was the second best thing that ever happened to you? What's the first?"

Six months ago, Naya would've been restricted to her answers. She would have had her PR glaring a the from the side stage and she would have a script of what to respond printed in her mind. But the amazing thing about Rocket Music is that she's free to say what she wants. Hell, she's even allowed to tweet what she wants and that was a major issue for her last management company.

She's so glad she switched.

Naya clears her throat and can't stop the grin that plays at her list. "Falling in love was definitely the best thing that ever happened to me."

Ellen grins and suddenly Naya gets a little suspicious. The smile on the other woman's face has something behind it, and she feels like she should be looking around because Ellen's known for playing pranks on her guest stars. Naya's watched and cried tears of laughter over many videos she's seen or been showed on YouTube; ones including Taylor Swift and Barack Obama.

"You've fallen in love?" Ellen asks, but there's something in her face telling Naya she already knows she has. "Who with?"

"Oh, no," Naya starts and tries to lessen the grin but it doesn't work. She can't help but smile idiotically when she thinks about her love life. "I've been in love with this person for a long time."

"A long time?" Ellen presses and leans forward, eyebrow raised. "How long?"

Naya sucks in a breath and glances up to the ceiling, thinking how long it's been since her heart was stolen. "Erm, about four years. But it feels like forever."

Ellen's head tilts and she looks towards the audience who 'aw' in response. "Naya's in love," she chants to the audience and they all start to laugh.

She turns back to Naya. "So who's the lucky person?"

There have been many rumors over the past few months, mostly made up by teenagers on the internet, but still, there have been rumors. The pictures Naya tweeted on set back in September of her and Heather caused a riot on Tumblr, and since then there have been a few more pictures and a few more conspiracies, and Naya hasn't responded to any of them. But whereas a few months back, she would've had to show up to some awards show holding hands with Matt, because her PR told her to, this time she's free to ignore them and neither confirm nor deny them.

And it has been tricky at times, and there's been a fair few fights, but nothing that hasn't been resolved. Nothing that hasn't built up to this moment.

"Well, if you're not going to say, I vote we should just bring her out!"

The audience cheer and woop, and Naya's eyes widen and jaw drops. She snaps her head around and stares at Ellen, unsure if this is actually happening.

"What?" She stutters and starts whipping her head around frantically. "She's _here?_" She gestures to the floor and grins.

And Ellen doesn't even respond before she's standing from her chair, gesturing towards the entrance Naya came from and says, "Everyone, welcome Heather Morris to the show!"

There's a round of applause and Naya twists in her chair, angling awkwardly to look back towards the entrance just as Heather comes gliding through it. Her hair's down in loose curls, and her make-up is light but she's gorgeous. She always manages to take Naya's breath away, even when she's just woken up—hell_, especially _when she's just woken up—but right now, she looks like an angel that's fallen from heaven.

Naya's mouth is running dry and as soon as their eyes lock, Naya finds herself standing and gravitating towards Heather with her arms open. There's a huge grin on her face, and she's sure Ellen's saying something but she can't focus because Heather's _here. _She's actually here and she's biting her bottom lip in the way she always does when she's nervous, and she's wrapping her arms around Naya's neck, pulling her closely into a hug that makes their hips bump and ribs slot together.

She breathes Heather in, still incredibly shell-shocked to think that she's _actually _here and pulls back when Heather's hands slide onto her shoulder. Glancing up, their eyes lock again and Naya grins idiotically, leaning into the touch when a hand comes up to push a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"You're here," Naya mutters and flexes her fingers against Heather's hips.

Heather smiles softly down at her and her eyes are just so, _so _bright. "I am."

All the love and happiness that's buzzing through Naya's body just gets too much, and even though Ellen's saying something to the audience, and even though the audience are still clapping and cheering for Heather's appearance, Naya can't hold back anymore.

She leans forward, thankful that she's wearing heels and Heather isn't, and meets Heather halfway, brushing their lips together almost as if they don't touch at all. Her hand slides around to grip at the back of Heather's neck and she grins, pulling back, only to grin more when Heather pouts and follows her, pressing their mouths together again and kissing her harder, deeper.

It goes on for a little longer than appropriate, but Naya hasn't seen Heather in nearly a week and now Heather's here with her on The Ellen Show and _fuck, _it's all too much. But too much in a good way and so she just kisses Heather back with everything she has.

Heather breaks the kiss, smirking and pulling her head back because as much as they'd like to keep kissing, they _are _on a talk show and Ellen _is _waiting for them. And so Naya, breathing a little unevenly, nods, accepting the silent words Heather mutters and kisses her one last time, softly and quickly, before tangling their fingers together and leading her back towards the sofa.

And as they talk about how they happened, and what their future plans are, Naya realizes that no, falling love wasn't the best thing that ever happened to her. Heather was, even with the pain, the hurt and the joy that their journey has brought, and that nothing will ever take her place at the number one rank.

Naya lifts Heather's hand to her mouth and dusts kisses across her knuckles, leaving a lingering one on the fourth knuckle of her left hand. Ellen doesn't notice, but Heather does and she just flashes Naya a quick smile before returning the same gesture.

/

**The End**


End file.
